tihxavy  of  Che  Cheolocjical  ^tmimxy 

PRINCETON  •  NEW  JERSEY 


PRESENTED  BY 

The  Estate  of 
Philip  H.  Waddell  Smith 

BX  6333  .M365  L3 
Maclaren,  Alexander,  1826- 

1910. 
Last  sheaves 


pf 


LAST    SHEAVES 


LAST  SHEAVES 


ALEXANDER  MACLAREN,  D.D.,  Litt.  D. 


NEW     YORK 

AMERICAN     TRACT     SOCIETY 

150    NASSAU    STREET 


TO 

THE    CHURCH 

AND    CONGREGATION    OF 

UNION    CHAPEL    MANCHESTER 

IN     GRATEFUL     ACKNOWLEDGMENT 

OF   THEIR   LOVE   AND 

TRUST   UNBROKEN 

FOR     FORTY-FIVE 

YEARS 


Prefatory   Note 


'T^HE  title  which  I  have  given  to  this  volume  refers 
-*■  to  the  fact,  more  weighty  to  me  than  to  my 
readers,  that  its  contents  were  for  the  most  part 
preached  during  the  last  of  my  forty-five  years' 
pastorate  in  Manchester,  and  are  now  pubhshed  almost 
simultaneously  with  my  retirement.  I  shall,  I  hope, 
be  pardoned  and  sympathized  with,  if  I  express  here 
something  of  the  solemn  and  pensive  emotions  with 
which  I  send  forth  this  volume.  I  am  well  aware  of 
the  defects  and  Hmitations  of  this  as  of  my  other  books, 
but  I  am  deeply  thankful  to  God  for  any  good  that  He 
has  allowed  them  to  do,  and  to  many  unknown  friends 
in  many  lands  who  have  heartened  me  by  telhng  me 
that  I  have  been  able  to  help  them  in  some  measure. 
I  cannot  issue  this  volume  without  thanking  them  and 
asking  them  to  remember  me  in  their  prayers. 


Contents 


In  The  Upper  Room 

PAGE 

A  Soul's  Tragedy 1 


"Do  Quickly" 13 


The  Cross  of  Glory  " 24 


Cannot  and  Can 35 


Sekkinq  Jesus  45 


CONTENTS 


PASE 

As  I  HAVE  Loved  " 56 


Why  Cannot  I  Follow  Thee  Now  " . 


The  Collapse  of  Self-Confidence      .         .        .      78 


The  Devout  Life  Here  and  Hereafter    ...      91 


Righteousness  First,  Peace  Second. 


Two  Shepherds  and  Two  Flocks       .        .        .        .115 


Death,  the  Friend 128 


A  Fight  with  Depeession 139 


Thirst  and  Satisfaction 148 


A  Song  of  Faith        . 160 


CONTENTS  a 

Vi.»S 
FOBGIVENESS   AND   RETRIBUTION     .....      172 


Saints,  Beuevees,  Beethben      .....     184 


Prudence  and  Faith 197 


"  Never  in  Bondage  " 207 


What  a  Good  Man  is  and  How  He  is  Made     .         .    219 


The  Original  and  the  Copy — 


I.    Imitative  Miracles 231 


II.     "  Conformable  to  His  Death  "  .         .     242 


Without  the  Camp  " 252 


At  the  Altar 264 


CONTENTS 


Geeat  Hopes  a  Geeat  Duty      ,         .  ,     275 


Geeat  Hopes  and  a  Great  Powee     ...     287 


The  Singers  by  the  Sea 


300 


A   Soul's  Tragedy 

And  when  Jesus  had  dipped  the  sop,  He  gave  it  to  Judas  Iscariot, 
the  son  of  Simon.  And  after  the  sop  Satan  entered  into  hiui. — 
John  xiii.  26,  27. 

A  CASUAL  onlooker  would  have  seen  nothing 
in  Christ's  giving,  and  Judas'  taking,  the  mois- 
tened morsel  but  an  ordinary  act  of  courtesy  or  kind- 
liness done  by  a  host  to  his  guest.  But  below  the  trivial 
act  there  was  going  on  a  struggle,  a  momentary  hesita- 
tion, a  grim  resolution,  and  a  tragedy — the  tragedy 
of  a  soul.  It  was  all  done  in  a  minute.  Not  a  word 
was  spoken  ;  and  yet  the  moment  before,  Judas  might 
have  abandoned  his  purpose,  — perhaps  he  half  aban- 
doned it  while  he  stretched  out  his  hand, — but  ere  he 
had  swallowed  the  bit  of  bread,  he  had  pulled  himself 
together,  and  said  once  more,  "  I  will !  "  With  his 
own  hand  he  slammed  to  the  door,  and  the  reverbera- 
tion of  it  soimded  hollow  in  his  soul.  A  man  may  ruin 
himself  in  a  moment,  and  a  Httle  turn  in  the  direction 
of  a  life  may  influence  all  that  comes  after  it,  however 
far  the  line  is  produced. 

There  are  two   figures,  isolated  from  all  the  world, 

M.S.  1  1 


2  A  SOUL'S  TRAGEDY 

in  the  picture  of  my  text — Jesus  and  Judas ;  one 
radiant  with  more  than  mortal  whiteness  and  lustre ; 
one  dark — as  we  sometimes  think,  though  wrongly — 
with  more  than  human  blackness.  They  had  a  common 
secret  that  separated  them  from  the  others.  Judas 
understood  what  Christ  meant  by  the  sop  ;  and  Christ 
understood  what  Judas  meant  by  the  look  with  which 
he  took  it.  If  we  go  beneath  the  mere  surface  of  the 
act,  we  find  lessons  very  solemn  and  of  universal 
application,  and  perhaps  we  shall  best  gather  and  har- 
vest them  if  we  simply  study  these  two  figures,  silhouet- 
ted against  the  sky :  Jesus  making  the  last  appeal  of 
patient,  wounded  love,  and  Judas  steeling  himself 
against  it.     Let  us  look  at  the  two. 

I. — Jesus  making  the  Last  Appeal  of  Patient, 
Wounded  Love. 

Remember  the  sequence  of  the  preceding  scene,  for 
it  throws  light  upon  the  incident  with  which  we  are 
more  immediately  concerned.  Our  Lord  had  been 
sitting  silent,  absorbed  in  thought  of  the  near  end. 
He  broke  the  silence,  suddenly,  with  the  pained 
announcement  that  the  traitor  was  "  one  of  you." 
Then  came  a  universal  shock  of  surprise,  and  each  man 
scrutinised  his  neighbour  with  suspicion,  and  all  s  ssailed 
Jesus  with  the  question,  "  Who  is  it  ?  "  He  answered, 
and  did  not  answer ;  for  to  the  general  interrogation 
He  simply  replied  with  what  was  tantamount  to,  and 
no  more  than.  His  previous  declaration,  "  one  of  you." 


A  SOUL'S  TRAGEDY  3 

For  all  the  token  given  to  the  twelve  was  :  "  he  that 
dippeth  with  Me  in  the  dish,"  and  according  to  the 
habits  of  Easterns,  all  the  hands  went  into  the  dish 
at  one  time  or  other  together.  So  that  the  answer 
was  no  answer,  in  so  far  as  their  curiosity  was  concerned, 
but  fixed  once  more  their  attention  on  the  sad  fact 
that  "  one  of  them "  was  to  be  the  traitor.  Then 
came  John's  whispered  question,  which  evidently  was 
unknown  to  the  others,  with  the  exception  of  the 
prompter  of  it,  Peter.  The  answer,  too,  was  whispered, 
for  even  after  Jesus  had  said :  "  he  to  whom  I  shall 
give  the  sop  when  I  have  dipped  it,"  none  of  those 
sitting  at  the  table  suspected  why  Judas  had  rushed 
out  of  the  apartment.  Christ  did  not  give  the  sop 
in  order  to  satisfy  John's  curiosity,  but  He  had  made 
up  His  mind  to  do  it  before  John's  question,  and  for 
a  far  deeper  reason  than  to  supply  a  means  of  iden- 
tification. 

What,  then,  was  the  meaning  of  it  ?  What  was 
the  meaning  of  it  in  ordinary  intercourse  ?  It  meant 
kindUness  and  friendliness.  It  was  a  token  of  special 
regard  and  interest.  It  meant  a  reminder  of  past 
famiHarity.  It  meant  all  these,  when  Christ  gave  the 
sop  into  the  trembUng  hand  that  received  it.  He 
was  not  indicating  Judas  for  John's  benefit ;  He  was 
not  acting  ;  but  He  was  giving  way  to  the  deep  emotions 
of  His  heart  at  the  moment,  and  meaning  infinitely 
more  than  the  common-place  act  meant  in  ordinary 


4  A  SOUL'S  TRAGEDY 

hands.  For  Christ  infuses  a  deeper  significance  into 
conventional  courtesies.  He  gave  His  love  when  He 
gave  the  sop,  even  to  His  betrayer,  whom  He  knew  as 
such.  If  one,  therefore,  thinks  for  a  moment  of  Who 
it  was  that  gave,  and  how  entirely  He  knew  the  tortuous 
treachery  of  the  man  to  whom  He  gave  it,  the  conven- 
tional act  towers  up  into  a  strange  significance  and 
pathetic  beauty  ;  and  carries  with  it  not  only  a  glimpse 
into  the  heart  of  Jesus,  but,  because  it  does  give  a 
gUmpse  into  His  heart,  it  thereby  reveals  the  heart 
of  God. 

If  we  try  to  realize  to  ourselves  what  was  the  human 
emotion  which  prompted  the  Lord's  act,  we  shall 
read  in  it,  I  think,  pain  and  disappointment  indeed, 
that  love  had  been  repelled  and  teaching  misunderstood, 
and  that  all  the  blessed  familiarities  and  friendliness 
of  those  three  years  of  discipleship  had  only  come  to 
this.  But  we  shall  not  find  one  faint,  transient  flush 
of  anger  in  His  calm  cheek,  nor  one  momentarily 
quickened  throb  of  indignation  in  His  patient  heart. 
Christ  pitied,  and  was  not  angry.  The  same  tone  of 
compassion  for  the  man  that  was  doing  himself  so  much 
more  harm  than  he  was  doing  his  apparent  victim, 
runs  through  even  the  solemn  words  which  He  had 
spoken  at  a  previous  time :  "  Woe  unto  that  man  ! 
Good  were  it  for  that  man  if  he  had  never  been  born  !  " 
That  is  a  groan  of  sympathy,  far  more  than  a  denun- 
ciation of  wrath. 


A  SOUL'S  TRAGEDY  5 

So,  dear  brethren,  believing,  as  I  suppose  most  of  us 
do,  whatever  metaphysical  explanation  of  the  fact  may 
lie  behind  it,  that  in  Jesus  Christ  and  His  human 
emotions  and  acts  we  have  the  clearest  revelation  of 
the  heart,  and  the  authoritative  explanation  of  the 
acts,  of  God  Himself,  may  we  not  see  here,  in  that  sop, 
the  token  of  amity  given  to  the  traitor — the  great  and 
blessed  message  that  no  sin,  no  transgression  against 
love  and  gratitude,  can  turn  away  from  a  man  the  love 
of  God  ?  Most  of  us,  I  suppose,  are  accustomed  to 
think  that  "  Heaven  heads  the  count  of  crimes  "  with 
that  traitorous  act.  I  question  that.  But  though 
Judas  were  the  worst  man  that  ever  lived — if  there  is 
a  worst — the  love  of  God  in  Jesus  Christ  hovered  round 
that  man  in  the  moment  of  his  supreme  sin.  Sin  is 
mighty  ;  it  can  do  awful  things  in  the  way  of  disturb- 
ing the  relation  between  man  and  God.  But  there  is 
one  thing  it  cannot  do  ;  it  cannot  make  Him  who  loves 
us,  not  because  of  anything  in  ourselves,  but  because 
of  what  He  is  in  Himself,  cease  to  love  us.  The  sun- 
shine falls  equally  on  a  dunghill  and  on  a  diamond. 
The  great  ocean  washes  over  the  blackest  and  the 
barrenest  rock  as  lovingly  as  it  kisses  the  smiling  strand 
of  fertile  lands.  The  air  and  the  light  stream  into 
foetid  alleys  of  the  city  as  willingly  as  they  sweep  over 
the  purity  of  the  mountain  side.  And  the  love  of  God 
is  not  turned  away  by  transgression,  howsoever  the 
manifestation  of  that  love  must  be  modified  thereby. 


6  A  SOUL'S  TRAGEDY 

So,  then,  here  is  one  lesson  for  us, — Let  no  sin  ever  lead 
us  to  think  that  a  man  is  parted  from  the  seeking  love 
of  God. 

But  then,  again,  let  me  remind  you  that  not  only 
was  this  gift  of  the  sop  the  token  of  kindliness  and 
friendship,  but  that  it  was  a  direct  appeal,  seeking  to 
win  Judas  back  by  the  manifestation  of  the  Saviour's 
love  to  him.  Judas  was  not  past  the  possibility  of 
yet  being  won.  He  had  been  to  the  High  Priest,  he 
had  settled  his  plans,  but  until  the  deed  was  actually 
done,  there  was  a  possibility  that  it  might  never  be 
done.  And  disregarding  for  the  moment  all  wider  ques- 
tions, we  may  say  that  Jesus  had  only  the  thought 
in  His  heart,  "  Can  I  save  this  man  from  this  great  sin  ? 
Let  Me  try  once  more."  So  He  appeals  to  him  by  that 
familiar  and  pathetic  act,  as  if  He  would  say  to  him, 
"  Have  you  forgotten  all  our  memories,  all  the  past 
associations,  all  the  sweet  friendlinesses  and  private 
communions  of  these  years  ?  Will  you  not  come  back, 
and  give  up  your  mad  purpose  of  betraying  Me  ?  " 
There,  too,  brethren,  is  a  revelation  for  us ;  for  there, 
too,  we  have  mirrored  forth,  set  before  us  in  a  concrete 
example  of  such  a  nature  as  that  it  may  seem  to  be  the 
very  superlative  of  the  appealing  love  of  God,  the  great 
fact  that  Jesus  Christ  never  gives  up  any  as  hopeless, 
that  there  are  no  outcasts  in  His  view,  to  whom  the 
moral  and  quickening  influences  of  His  manifested 
love  cannot  do  any  good.       There  is  some  spot,  He 


A  SOUL'S  TRAGEDY  7 

believes.,  and  He  would  have  us  believe,  sensitive  to 
good  in  the  most  hardened  bad ;  there  is  some  little 
cranny,  He  beheves,  and  He  would  have  us  beheve, 
in  the  most  close-knit  strength  of  a  steeled  heart, 
through  which  the  love-making  message  of  His  love 
may  find  its  way.  Therefore,  He  appealed  to  the 
betrayer.  Do  you  say  :  "He  knew  it  was  of  no  use  "  ? 
And  is  there  not  some  strange  apparent  contradiction 
between  what  we  beUeve  of  God's  fore-knowledge  and 
what  we  know  of  God's  unwearied  patience  and  per- 
sistence of  appeal  ?  Use  or  no  use,  the  heart  of  Jesus 
forced  Him  to  make  this  last  attempt.  He  made  it, 
and  it  failed,  so  far  as  Judas  was  concerned.  But  the 
act  stands  recorded,  as  one  pathetic  and  permanent  proof 
that  that  Divine  I^over,  in  Whose  humanity  we  all 
of  us  recognize  the  highest  revelation  of  the  heart  of 
God,  fulfilled  the  ideal  of  Love  which  His  servant  after- 
wards portrayed,  in  that  He  "  suffered  long,  and  was 
kind,"  in  that  He  "  hoped  all  things,"  even  at  the 
moment  before  the  treachery  was  consummated,  and  in 
that  when  His  enemy  hungered  He  gave  Him  bread, 
when  he  was  athirst  He  gave  him  drink,  desiring  thereby 
to  heap  coals  of  fire  upon  his  head,  that  might  melt  the 
obstinate  ore  and  cause  it  to  flow  forth.  He  gave  the 
sop,  a  token  of  love,  and  an  appeal  to  Judas  to  return. 
And  now,  dear  friends,  I  have  been  saying  that 
Christ  in  this  instructive  act  of  patient  love  revealed 
the  heart  of  God.     Ay  !  but  He  does  more  ;  He  reveals 


8  A  SOUL'S  TRAGEDY 

the  pattern  for  us  men.  It  is  hard  for  us  not  to  meet 
hate  with  hate  and  scorn  with  scorn.  It  is  hard  for  us 
to  keep  the  narrow  hne  that  separates  legitimate  pain 
and  sorrow  at  an  enemy's  enmity  from  non-legitimate 
enmity  and  wrath.  We  are  apt  to  give  back  to  the 
world,  and  to  men  around  us,  the  face  with  which 
they  look  upon  us.  But  Jesus  Christ  has  bid  us — 
and  there  is  no  wriggling  out  of  the  duty,  hard  as  it  may 
be — to  meet  enmity  with  love,  and  wrong  with  patient 
endurance,  and  to  answer  the  spurt  of  the  fires  of 
hatred  with  the  gush  of  the  extinguishing  water  of 
love.  That  is  our  duty.  We  forget  it.  We  break  it ; 
we  formulate  reasons  against  it.  But  for  the  individual 
and  for  the  nation  Christ's  pattern  has  to  be  followed, 
and  Christ's  principles  to  be  obeyed.  We  must  remem- 
ber not  only  that  "  force  is  no  remedy,"  but  that  hatred 
is  no  remedy  either.  An  enemy  crushed  is  tenfold  an 
enemy ;  an  enemy  won  is  a  hundredfold  a  friend. 
There  is  the  law  for  us. 

And  there  is  another  lesson  here.  Never  despair 
of  any  man.  Do  not  drop  into  the  fashionable  way 
of  regarding  certain  classes  and  certain  races  as  outside 
the  pale  and  the  power  of  Christ's  Gospel.  There  is  no 
man  whom  His  arm  cannot  reach  ;  there  is  no  man, 
and  no  class,  whom  it  is  not  the  duty  of  His  servants, 
to  try  to  reach. 

And  there  is  yet  another  lesson,  and  that  is,  that 
the  only  way  to  win  men  to  love  is  to  show  that  you 


A  SOUL'S  TRAGEDY  9 

love   them.     That   is   the   omnipotent   way ;     that   is 
Christ's  way. 

Now,  let  us  turn  to  the  other  side, 

II.  That  Black  Figure  that  stands  there, 
grim   and   silent,    possibly   hesitating   for   a   moment, 
but  fixed  at  last  in  his  determination. 

"  When  he  had  taken  the  sop,  Satan  entered  into 
him."  That  was  no  magic ;  it  was  the  certain  result 
of  what  went  on  in  Judas'  heart,  when  he  took  the  sop. 
He  refused  the  love  that  gave  it,  whilst  he  took  that 
which  the  love  gave.  There  we  are  brought  face  to 
face  with  the  mystery  and  the  tragedy  of  humanity. 
A  man  can  thwart  all  the  influences  that  redeeming, 
seeking  love  can  bring  to  bear  upon  him.  The  flower 
can  shut  up  its  calyx,  and  keep  out  all  the  sunshine. 
The  earth  can  drink  in  the  rain,  and  then  it  gets  a  bless- 
ing, or  it  can  fling  it  off,  and  then  it  inherits  cursing, 
and  is  nigh  to  be  burned.  Nobody  can  explain  what 
everybody  knows,  and,  alas  !  is  himself  an  example 
of — the  possibiHty  of  the  tiny,  impotent  human  will, 
perking  itself  in  the  face  of  God,  and  saying,  "  I  will 
not."  "  How  often  would  I  .  .  .  but  ye  would  not." 
But,  if  the  power  is  strange,  surely  the  fact  that  we  so 
commonly  exercise  it  is  stranger  and  sadder  still, — 
that  any  man  should,  as  so  many  of  us  are  doing,  put 
away  from  himself  the  influences  that  are  being  brought 
to  bear  upon  him,  as  truly  as  Christ's  seeking  love  was 
brought  to  bear  on  the  traitor.     Day  by  day,  by  all  the 


10  A  SOUL'S  TRAGEDY 

various  providences  of  our  lives,  by  many  a  voice  in 
our  own  consciences,  by  many  a  strange  drawing  of 
which  we  are  conscious  and  which  we  resist,  and  above 
all  by  the  revelation  of  Himself  in  the  Word,  and — 
dare  I  say  ? — by  this  poor  presentation  of  it  by  my 
lips,  Christ  is  still  seeking  to  draw  us  to  Himself,  And 
some  of  us  are  neglecting,  and  some  of  us  are  resisting 
and  none  of  us  are  yielding  as  we  ought  to  yield. 

For  whenever  some  high  thought  comes  to  us,  and 
we  put  it  away ;  whenever  some  nobler  conception  of 
duty  and  life  is  revealed  to  us,  and  we  are  unfaithful 
to  it ;  whenever  between  two  courses  of  action  we 
choose  the  baser,  and  turn  away  from  the  nobler,  then 
we  are  doing  what  the  traitor  did  when  he  took  the 
sop.  And  whenever  any  of  us  are  brought  in  contact 
once  more  with  the  message  of  salvation  in  Jesus 
Christ,  and  dismiss  it  lightly,  or  yield  to  it  partially, 
or  forget  it  when  we  go  out  again  into  the  world,  then  I 
know  not  whether  of  the  two  is  the  more  guilty,  the  man 
who  did  not  know  what  he  was  doing  when  he  betrayed 
the  Christ,  or  the  man  who,  by  neglecting  His  message 
from  heaven,  "  crucifies  the  Son  of  God  afresh,  and 
puts  Him  to  an  open  shame." 

But  turn,  before  I  close,  to  the  other  thought  that 
lies  here.  We  have  seen  that  in  Judas  there  is  an 
eminent  instance  of  the  strange  and  wicked  steehng 
of  the  will  against  the  love  of  God.  Mark  the  conse- 
quences of  that  steeling — "  Satan  entered  into  him." 


A  SOUL'S  TRAGEDY  11 

\V\iy  ?  Because  he  had  not  let  Christ  enter  into  him. 
Shutting  the  door  against  the  love  of  Christ  opens  the 
door  for  the  devil.  Where  Christ  is  not,  Satan  is,  and 
"  brings  seven  other  spirits,  and  they  enter  in  and  dwell 
there,  and  the  last  of  that  man  is  worse  than  the  first." 
Every  appeal  to  the  conscience  that  is 'put  aside  makes 
the  next  appeal  less  hkely  to  succeed.  You  fire  a  shell 
against  an  earthwork ;  that  brings  down  the  face  of 
the  earthwork  and  makes  debris  which  guards  the  core 
of  it  against  the  next  shell.  A  man  may  be  so  case- 
hardened  by  his  own  resistance  as  that  conscience 
cannot  drive  its  lance  through  the  tenacious  surface. 
Every  base  choice  makes  subsequent  noble  choices  less 
likely.  Every  time  that  a  man  is  brought  into  contact 
with  Jesus  Christ,  and  fails  to  yield  full  obedience  and 
trust,  that  man  is  less  likely  ever  to  yield.  Something 
the  giving  of  the  sop  did.  If  it  did  not  melt,  it  hardened. 
There  is  no  ice  so  tough,  so  slippery,  as  ice  which  is 
melted  on  the  surface  by  the  few  hours  of  the  winter 
sun,  and  then  locked  again  in  the  bonds  of  the  frost 
when  night  falls.  Half-melted  hearts  frozen  again  are 
frozen  harder  than  ever. 

We  are  accustomed  to  think  of  Judas  as  almost 
outside  the  pale  of  sympathy.  Dante  puts  him  alone 
in  hell,  shunned  and  loathed  even  there.  But  he  was  no 
monster,  and  he  became  what  he  was,  and  did  what  he 
did,  by  yielding  to  ordinary  temptations  and  ordinary 
motives.     What  his  motives  may  have  been  is  a  pro- 


12  A  SOUL'S  TRAGEDY 

blem.  He  was  with  Jesus  Christ,  and  he  was  not 
made  better  thereby  ;  therefore  he  was  made  worse. 
He  companied  with  the  Teacher  and  Lover  of  souls ; 
and  he  did  not  learn  the  teaching  or  accept  the  love, 
and  therefore  he  hated  Him  that  gave  them  both. 
As  for  his  guilt,  it  is  in  better  hands  than  ours.  As  for 
his  fate,  we  had  better  imitate  the  reticence  of  the 
Apostle  who  said :  "  He  went  to  his  own  place,"  the 
place  that  he  was  fit  for,  wherever  that  was.  As  for  his 
growth  in  sin,  let  us  remember  that  he  reached  the 
goal  by  a  path  that  we  may  all  take,  and  that  it  cul- 
minated when  he  did  what  we  may  all  do,  accepted 
the  token  of  Christ's  love,  and  rejected  the  love  that 
gave  the  token.  Therefore,  "  Satan  entered  into  him." 
"  And  having  received  the  sop,  he  went  out,  and  it 
was  night "  ;  himself  carrying  a  blacker  night  in  his 
black  heart.  May  we  learn  the  lesson,  and  accept  the 
love,  so  that  we  may  be  not  of  the  night,  or  of  darkness, 
but  the  children  of  light,  and  of  the  day  ! 


"Do  Quickly" 

Then  baid  Jesus  unto  him,  that  thou  doest,  do  quickly. — John 


xui. 


THAT  thou  doest" — not  ''art  about  to  do." 
For,  when  the  die  was  cast  and  the  resolution 
fixed,  the  deed,  so  far  as  its  doer's  responsibility  and 
its  effects  on  his  character  were  concerned,  was  already 
done.  When  David's  desire  to  build  the  Temple  was 
negatived,  it  was  said  to  him,  "  Forasmuch  as  it  was  in 
thine  heart  "  it  was  counted  as  performed.  Human  law 
deals  with  acts.  All  noble  morality  and  God's  law, 
which  is  the  noblest  of  all,  deals  with  intentions.  So, 
not  merely  because  he  had  already  been  to  the  priests 
but  because  he  had  fixed  in  his  mind  to  do  it,  Judas  is 
regarded  by  Christ  as  already  in  course  of  doing  his  base 
action.  The  principle  holds  good  in  reference  to  good 
and  to  evil  purposes.  Foiled  aspirations  after  good  and 
thwarted  inclinations  to  evil  are  both  regarded  by  Him 
as  already  done. 

But  did  not  Jesus  Christ  push  Judas  over  the  precipice 
by  this  strange  command  ?     No  ;  he  had  flung  himself 


14  "  DO  QUICKLY  " 

over  before  the  command  was  given.  As  I  tried  to  show 
when  speaking  about  the  previous  part  of  this  verse, 
when  the  sop  was  given  he  was  tottering  on  the  edge  ; 
after  he  had  taken  the  sop  he  had  gone  over.  And  what 
Christ  says  here  has  no  bearing  on  the  decision  to  do  the 
deed,  but  simply  on  the  manner  in  which  it  was  to  be 
done.      The  command  is  not  "  do,"  but  "  do  quickly." 

But  now  it  seems  to  me  that  the  point  of  view  from 
which  these  words  are  mainly  to  be  looked  at  is  one 
which  is  generally  almost  ignored.  Suppose  instead  of 
puzzling  ourselves  with  asking  the  question  how  they 
affected  Judas,  we  ask  the  question,  "  What  do  they 
say  about  Jesus  ?  "  To  me  they  seem  to  be  far  more 
instructive  and  illuminative  when  considered  as  being 
almost  an  instinctive  cry  from  His  heart,  and  having 
reference  to  Himself,  than  when  we  look  upon  them  as 
being  an  instruction  to  the  betrayer.  The  two  references 
are  both  there,  and  I  think  that  in  order  to  understand 
all  the  deep  significance  of  this  strange  injunction  we 
have  to  take  both  into  account.  My  purpose  now  is  to 
try  to  embrace  both  these  elements  or  points  of  view 
in  our  consideration. 

First,  then — and,  to  me,  by  far  the  more  important — 
1  cannot  but  hear  in  this  injunction, 

I. — The  Cry  of  a  Human  Instinct  in  the  Prospect 
OF  A  Great  Pain  and  Sorrow. 

"  That  thou  doest  do  quickly."  Do  we  not  all  know 
that  feeling  in  looking  forward  to  something  unwelcome 


"  DO  QUICKLY  "  15 

or  painful  that  is  impending — "  would  it  were  over  ?  " 
There  are  few  things  that  try  the  firmest  nerves  more 
than  the  long  anticipation  of  the  leaden  footsteps  of  the 
slow  hours  that  bring  us  some  great  trial,  shock,  or  loss. 
The  cup  of  bitterness  is  less  bitter  when  we  can  drink 
it  ofi  at  a  gulp  ;  more  bitter  when  it  has  to  be  sipped. 
Anticipated  sorrows  make  men  more  impatient  than 
do  anticipated  joys.  And  it  seems  to  me  that  here  we 
have  just  that  strange  paradox  that  we  all  know  so 
well,  of  stretching  out  a  hand  to  bring  the  thing  from 
which  we  shrink  nearer  to  us,  just  because  we  shrink 
from  it.  Does  it  not  make  us  feel  the  beatings  of  a 
brother's  heart  if  we  think  that  Jesus  turned  to  the  be- 
trayer, and  after  He  had  given  up  trying  to  influence 
him,  said  in  effect :  "  The  one  kindness  you  can  still 
show  Me  is  to  do  your  work  quickly."  He  shrank  from 
the  Cross,  and  therefore  He  desii-ed  that  it  should  come 
swiftly.  For  He,  too,  knew  the  agony  of  protracted 
anticipation,  and  would  fain  hasten  the  slow  drip,  drip 
drip,  of  the  laggard  moments,  and  bring,  and  have  done 
with,  that  which  He  knew  was  coming.  If  we  foimd 
such  a  saying  as  this  recorded  in  the  biography  of  any 
great  martyr  or  hero,  we  should  at  once  come  to  the 
conclusion  that  he  was  therein  expressing  a  natural, 
instinctive  feehng.  Why  should  we  scruple,  except 
from  a  misplaced  reverence,  to  say  that  the  same  feeling 
is  expressed  when  the  words  come  from  the  Hps  of 
Jesus  Christ  ?     His  death  was  unique,  but  He  shows 


16  "  DO  QUICKLY  " 

us  His  brotherhood,  not  only  in  the  fact,  but  in  the 
manner,  of  the  death,  and  in  His  attitude  towards  it, 
when  it  was  yet  but  an  anticipation  and  a  near 
prospect. 

One  is  the  more  inclined  to  hear  that  familiar  tone  in 
the  words  of  my  text,  if  we  remember  how  something  of 
the  same  kind  of  desire  to  accelerate  that  from  which 
He  shrank  is  obvious  during  all  the  narrative  of  His  last 
days.  Do  you  remember  how  He  set  His  face  as  a  flint 
on  His  last  journey  to  Jerusalem,  with  such  a  tension 
in  His  countenance  and  resolved  determination  in  His 
swift  steps  up  the  rocky  road  from  Jericho,  that  the 
disciples  were  conscious  of  something  unusual  and  fol- 
lowed, as  the  Evangelist  says,  silently  and  in  amaze- 
ment ?  What  was  the  meaning  of  our  Lord's  entire 
reversal  of  all  His  previous  policy — if  I  may  use  that 
word — on  the  occasion  of  His  public  entrance  into 
Jerusalem  ?  What  was  the  meaning  of  His  daily  going 
into  the  Temple,  casting  out  the  money-changers,  and 
pouring  out  the  vials  of  His  hot  indignation  upon  scribes 
and  pharisees  and  official  hypocrites  and  malefactors  ? 
Did  it  not  all  point  to  this,  that  He  had  resolved  that  the 
time  was  come,  and  that  if  we  cannot  say  He  deliberately 
accelerated,  at  all  events  He  did  not  seek  in  the  smallest 
degree  to  retard,  the  fall  of  the  thunder-bolt  ?  Nay 
rather.  He  deliberately  sought  the  publicity  and  took  up 
the  position  of  antagonism,  which  were  certain  to  lead  to 
the  Cross.     I  suppose  that  He,  too,  who  had  travelled  all 


"  DO  QUICKLY  "  17 

His  life— if  we  believe  the  New  Testament  narratives— 
with  that  black  thing  closing  the  vista  ahead,  was  con- 
scious, as  He  drew  nearer  and  nearer  to  it,  that  in  a 
strange  way  it  both  repelled  and  attracted  Him.  And 
so,  if  I  might  so  say,  He  turned  to  Judas,  as  a  lamb  that 
was  being  slain  might  have  lifted  its  innocent  eyes  to 
the  sacrificer,  and  said,  "  Do  it  quickly  !  "  Ah  ! 
brethren,  that  brings  Him  very  near  weak  hearts. 

Let  me  say  one  word,  before  I  go  further,  about  that 
of  which  the  wish  to  get  it  over  was  a  symptom,  viz., 
the  shrinking  from  the  Cross.  It  was  perfectly  in- 
stinctive and  natural,  the  recoil  of  the  sensitive,  corporeal 
nature  from  pain  and  suffering,  which  is  neither  right  nor 
wrong  in  itself,  being  natural  and  involuntary.  But 
there  was  something  more,  as  we  see  from  the  story  of 
the  last  hours.  Most  men,  however  much  they  are 
cowards  in  their  lives,  die  calmly  :  Jesus  Christ  did  not. 
The  agitation,  the  horror  of  great  darkness,  the  recoil 
and  desolation  of  His  whole  nature,  are  neither  heroic 
nor  admirable  ;  nor  exphcable,  in  my  poor  judgment, 
except  on  one  hypothesis  :  "  The  Lord  hath  made  to 
meet  on  Him  the  iniquity  of  us  all."  That  burden 
weighed  Him  down,  and  made  His  death  less  calm 
than  have  been  the  deaths  of  thousands  whose  calmness 
came  from  Himself.  If  we  bring  in  that  deeper  element, 
we  understand  not  only  the  cry  of  desolation  that  broke 
tragically  through  the  silent,  dark  hours,  but  we  un- 
derstand the  shrinking,  and  the  strange  paradox  oi  feel- 

MS.  2 


18  "  DO  QUICKLY  " 

ing  which  turns  the  shrinking  into  its  apparent  opposite, 
when  He  said,  "  That  thou  doest,  do  quickly." 

But  if  we  would  probe  the  whole  depth  of  the  re- 
velation, which  is  given  in  this  saying,  of  our  Lord's 
own  emotions  and  thoughts,  we  have  to  turn,  I  think, 
to  another  aspect  of  it.  I  have  spoken  of  this  being  the 
expression  of  His  shrinking  from  the  Cross,  but  can 
you  not  hear  in  it  an  expression  also  of  His  resolved  will 
to  go  to  the  Cross  ?  That  shrinking  of  which  I  have  been 
speaking,  and  which  I  have  called  purely  human,  instinc- 
tive and  involuntary,  and  perfectly  neutral,  in  so  far  as 
any  moral  quality  is  concerned — that  shrinking,  if  I  may 
use  such  a  figure,  never  climbed  up  from  the  lower  depths 
of  instinctive  feeling  into  the  place  where  the  Will  sat 
enthroned.  The  mist  lay  in  the  bottoms ;  the  summit 
kept  always  clear.  He  shrank,  but  He  never  allowed 
His  will  to  waver.  The  tempest  beat  on  the  windward 
side  of  the  ship,  but  the  helm  was  kept  firm,  and  the 
bow  pointed  always  in  the  same  direction.  Jesus  Christ 
was  steadfast  in  His  purpose  from  the  beginning  to  the 
end.  "  The  Son  of  Man  came  not  to  be  ministered  unto, 
but  to  minister,  and  to  give  His  life  a  ransom  for  many  ;  " 
and  so,  all  His  life  long,  through  all  those  gracious  and 
wonderful  ministrations  of  His,  when  His  heart  was  open 
to  all  distress,  and  his  eye  open  to  all  the  loveliness  of 
nature,  the  flowers  of  the  field,  and  the  lilies  of  the  plain, 
there  lay  in  His  heart  the  fixed  purpose  to  die  for  men. 

Brethren,  why  was  Jesus  Christ  thus  determined  ? 


"  DO  QUICKLY  "  19 

What  was  it  that  kept  the  fixed  will  thus  ever  pointing 
in  the  one  direction  ?  What  was  it  that  shut  down 
the  shrinking,  that  coerced  the  nature  which  innocently 
and  necessarily  recoiled  from  suffering  and  pain  ?  I 
beUeve  it  was  two  things  :  one,  that  Jesus  Christ's  own 
conception  of  the  significance  and  place  of  His  death 
differed  altogether  in  kind  from  the  conception  that  a 
martyr,  who  is  willing  to  die  for  a  cause,  and  to  pay 
down  his  life  as  the  price  of  his  faithfulness,  might  en- 
tertain. To  Jesus  Christ,  as  I  read  His  own  sayings, 
death  was  not  the  inevitable  consequence  of  His  dis- 
charging the  mission  which  He  was  ready  to  face,  but 
it  was,  shall  I  say,  the  climax  of  the  mission,  and  that 
for  which  He  was  born. 

And  then,  still  deeper,  if  you  ask  me  why  was  He  thus 
rigidly  and  constantly  determined  to  die  ? — I  answer 
it  was  Love  that  backed  up  His  will,  and  kept  it  from 
ever  wavering.  Because  He  loved  us,  and  gave  Him- 
self for  us,  therefore,  as  I  have  said,  He  resisted  the  in- 
stinctive shrinking  from  the  Cross,  and  kept  Himself 
steadily  determined  to  endure  it,  despising  the  shame. 
Like  some  strong  spring,  always  active,  behind  some 
object  which  it  presses  constantly  forward  against  a 
cutting  knife,  so  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ  bore  Him  on- 
ward, all  through  His  career,  and  if  I  may  not  say  that  it 
drove  Him,  I  may  say  that  it  led  Him,  through  all  His 
sufferings  unto  the  last  of  all. 

It  was  a  universal  love,  and  it  was  an  individualising 


20  "  DO  QUICKLY  " 

love.  "  He  loved  me,"  says  the  apostle,  "  and  gave 
Himself  for  me."  Each  of  us  has  the  right — and  if  we 
have  the  right,  we  are  under  the  obligation — to  say  the 
same  thing,  and  to  take  of  that  great  river  of  the  water 
of  life  and  love  that  flows  out  of  the  heart  of  Jesus,  and 
turn  it  into  our  own  little  plot  of  ground.  Because  He 
loved  me  He  went  to  "  the  Cross,  despising  the  shame," 
He  subdued  the  shrinking,  and  welcomed  death.  When 
He  hung  on  the  Cross,  and  when  He  sits  on  the  Throne, 
His  love  embraced  and  embraces  you  and  me.  May 
we  take  it,  and  be  at  rest ! 

And  now  turn  to 

II. — The  Other  Aspect  of  this  Strange  Com- 
mandment, 

and  think  of  how  it  affected  the  betrayer.  There  we 
have  the  solemn  leaving  of  a  man  to  take  his  own  way. 

I  have  already  said  that  this  is  almost  a  kind  of  appeal 
to  any  lingering  pity  or  kindness  that  there  might  be  left 
in  Judas.  But  it  is  more  than  that.  Christ  still  keeps 
His  position  of  authority  over  the  traitor,  and  when  He 
says  to  him,  "  That  thou  doest,  do  quickly,"  it  is  a  word 
of  command,  which  says  :  "  I  am  ready.  You  do  not 
need  to  plot  and  contrive.  Here  are  My  hands ;  put 
your  fetters  on  them."  He  assumes  what  is  the  charac- 
teristic of  His  attitude  during  His  sufferings,  that  no 
man  has  power  over  Him,  but  that  He  is  voluntarily 
surrendering  Himself.  The  soldiers  that  would  take 
Him  fall  to  the  ground,  and  He  might  have  departed, 


"  DO  QUICKLY  "  21 

but  He  waited,  and  let  them  lay  hold  on  Him.  It  was 
not  Roman  nails  that  fastened  Him  to  the  Cross  ;  it  was 
the  "  cords  of  love  "  that  bound  Him  there.  Through- 
out the  whole  of  His  Passion  the  same  characteristics 
are  prominent,  and  they  are  plain  here. 

But,  beyond  that,  there  is  another  point  of  view  from 
which  the  words  must  be  regarded.  To  Judas  this  com- 
mandment was  equivalent  to  saying,  "  Take  your  own 
way,"  Jesus  Christ  left  him  to  do  what  he  would.  Now 
brethren,  the  analogue  to  that,  the  thing  which  corre- 
sponds to  it,  in  your  experience  and  mine,  is  a  condition 
to  which,  more  or  less  completely,  we  are  all  exposed, 
and  to  which  some  of  us  have  drawn  very  near,  when  we 
are  conscious  of  no  restraints  of  conscience,  when  nothing 
seems  to  pull  us  back  from  evil  that  we  are  inclined  to  do. 
I  do  not  know  that  anybody  ever  comes  to  absolute  and 
entire  insensitiveness  of  conscience.  I  hope  not.  But 
many  of  us  do  come  awfully  near  it,  and  all  of  us  tend 
towards  it  in  some  directions.  For  I  suppose  we  all 
know  what  it  is  to  have  faults,  sins,  to  which  we  are  so 
disposed  and  habituated  as  that  there  is  very  little,  if 
any,  conscious  check  or  pull-back  when  we  contemplate 
doing  them  again.  It  is  an  awful  solitude  into  which 
a  man  comes  then.  With  our  own  hands  we  pull  up 
the  buoys,  and  put  out  the  light-houses,  and  pitch  over- 
board the  compass,  and  lash  the  helm,  and  go  to  sleep 
in  our  bunks — and  what  happens  then  ?  Why,  we 
are  bumping  on  the  black  rocks,  with  half  the  ship's 


22  "DO  QUICKLY" 

side  torn  to  shivers,  before  we  know  where  we  are.  So 
let  us  take  care  lest,  by  doing  what  Judas  did,  we  get 
into  the  place  where  Judas  stood,  where  conscience 
which  is  God's  voice,  and  circumstances  which  are  God's 
hand,  shall  no  longer  keep  us  back,  and  we  shall  wipe 
our  mouths  and  say,  "  I  have  done  no  harm." 

Do  not  let  us  forget  that  the  only  man  that  Jesus 
Christ  ever  abandoned,  if  I  may  use  the  word,  was  an 
Apostle.  And  how  did  he  come  to  that  fatal  position  ? 
As  I  tried  to  show  you  in  the  preceding  sermon — by  a 
very  familiar  road.  He  had  been  with  Christ  and 
neglected  Him.  He  had  hstened  to  His  teaching  and 
ignored  it.  He  had  received  the  full  flame  of  His  love 
upon  his  heart,  and  it  had  not  melted  him.  So  he  grew 
worse  and  worse  until  he  came  to  this — "  Do  it  quickly !  " 

But  is  not  that  which  I  have  called,  perhaps  too 
strongly,  abandoning — the  letting  of  a  man  have  his 
way — is  not  that  a  kind  of  appeal  to  him,  too,  and  a 
seeking  of  him  by  the  only  way  by  which  there  is  a  chance 
of  finding  him  ?  We  all  know  that  sometimes  the  best 
thing  that  can  happen  to  a  man  is  that  he  shall  drink 
as  he  has  brewed,  that  he  shall  be  "  filled  with  the 
fruit  of  his  own  devices,"  that  he  shall  be  obliged  to  reap 
as  he  has  sown,  that  if  he  will  play  with  fire  he  shall  be 
allowed  to  play  with  it,  and  find  out,  when  he  looks  at 
his  own  scarred  palms,  what  a  fool  he  has  been.  God 
seeks  us  sometimes  by  letting  us  go,  that  we  may  learn 
by  consequences  that  "it  is  an  evil    thing,"  and    a 


"  DO  QUICKLY  "  23 

"  bitter  "  thing  as  well,  to  "  forsake  the  Lord  our  God." 
"  Do  it  quickly,"  and  find  out  how  rich  you  are,  with 
thirty  pieces  of  silver  in  your  pocket,  and  a  betrayed 
Master  on  your  conscience.  I  say  that  was  a  kind  of 
seeking,  and  that  is  the  kind  of  seeking  that  some  of  us 
need,  and  that  some  of  us  get. 

No  man  is  so  left  as  that  return  is  impossible.  No  man 
is  so  left  as  that  he  cannot  be  forgiven.  If  Judas  was 
lost,  he  was  lost  not  because  he  betrayed  his  Master — 
for  even  that  crime  might  have  been  washed  away  by 
the  innocent  blood  which  he  betrayed — but  because, 
ha\ang  betrayed,  he  despaired.  The  denier  "  went  out 
and  wept  bitterly ;  "  the  betrayer  "  went  out  and 
hanged  himself."  If  he  had  let  remorse  become  repent- 
ance, as  Peter  did,  he,  too,  Hke  Peter,  might  have  had 
a  healing  message  from  the  risen  Lord  on  the  Easter 
morning.  He,  too,  might  have  been  forgiven  and 
cleansed. 


The  Cross  of  Glor 


Therefore,  when  he  was  gone  out,  Jesus  said,  Now  is  the  Son  of 
Man  glorified,  and  God  is  glorified  in  Him.  If  God  be  glorified  in 
Him,  God  shall  also  glorify  Him  in  Himself,  and  shall  straightway 
glorify  HJm. — John  xiii.  31-2. 

"  TUDAS,  having  received  the  sop,  went  imme- 
J  diately  out,  and  it  was  night."  Surely  that  is 
more  than  a  note  of  time.  Into  the  dark  that  dark  soul 
went  to  do  his  dark  work,  and  the  Evangelist  would 
have  us  note,  how  fit  the  time  was  for  the  deed.  He 
connects  the  words  of  my  text  with  the  withdrawal  of 
the  betrayer  by  the  significant  clause,  "  therefore,  when 
he  was  gone  out,  Jesus  said."  The  presence  of  the 
traitor  had  been  a  restraint,  and  when  he  was  gone, 
the  flow  of  speech  was  freer,  as  when  some  black  rock 
that  chokes  the  channel  of  a  river  is  lifted  out  of  the 
bed.  Jesus  too,  knew  the  oppression  of  an  uncon- 
genial presence,  and  was  more  at  ease  when  it  was 
withdrawn.  The  traitor's  departure  led  to  these  great 
words  in  another  way,  too,  for  by  his  going  out  on  his 
errand,  the  Cross  was  brought  appreciably  nearer,  and 


THE  CROSS  OF  GLORY  25 

in  the  consciousness  that  the  deed  was  as  good  as  done, 
our  Lord  speaks  now  as  if  it  were  already  past.  "  Now 
is  the  Son  of  Man  glorified."  That  "  now  "  not  only- 
points  us  to  the  occasion  of  His  speaking  thus,  but  it 
also  points  us  to  the  fact  that  it  was  the  Cross  of  which 
He  was  speaking.  What  Judas  went  out  to  do  was  the 
beginning  of  Jesus  Christ's  being  glorified.  They  were 
strange  words  at  such  a  time. 

You  note,  of  course,  the  threefold  "  glorifying  "  that 
is  spoken  of  here,  and  the  ring  of  triumph  that  is  in  the 
words.  They  tell  us  what  Christ  thought  was  glory, 
and  they  stain  all  the  lustre  of  our  poor,  vulgar  notions 
of  what  it  is.  They  lift  a  corner  of  the  veil,  and  show 
us  what  it  was  that  drew  Him,  a  not  unwilling  sacrifice, 
to  the  Cross,  They  ought  to  melt  hearts  into  reverent 
love,  and  to  mould  fives  into  strenuous  imitation. 
We  take  these  three  instances  of  "  glorifying,"  which 
all  cluster  round  that  Cross,  for  our  consideration 
now, 

I.  The  Cross  as  Glorifying  Christ. 

If  we  read  such  words  as  these  in  the  biography  of 
any  martyr  or  hero  of  liberty  or  of  truth,  and  found  him 
welcoming  death  as  the  very  crown  of  his  life,  they 
would  five  in  men's  memories,  and  be  familiar  on  their 
lips.  But  Jesus  speaks  them,  and  even  those  that  love 
Him  best  do  not  appreciate  their  deep  significance.  Let 
me  try  to  work  it  out. 

Now,  if  we  look  over  this  gospel,  we  find  a  very 


26  THE  CROSS  OF  GLORY 

distinct  peculiarity  in  it,  in  that  the  point  of  view  from 
which  it  looks  at  the  death  of  Christ  is  the  opposite 
of  that  which  most  of  the  New  Testament  writers  take 
up.  To  them  it  is  the  very  lowest  point  of  His  humilia- 
tion ;  to  this  gospel  it  is  the  very  apex  of  His  elevation. 
And  it  was  Himself  that  set  the  example  of  so  speaking 
of  it.  For,  if  you  remember,  almost  at  the  beginning 
of  His  career,  according  to  the  record  of  this  Evangelist, 
He  said  to  Nicodemus :  "  Even  so  must  the  Son  of 
Man  be  hfted  up."  The  elevation  which  was  in  His 
mind  was  not  the  foot  or  two  above  the  earth  to  which 
the  victim  upon  a  cross  was  raised,  but  in  that  insigni- 
ficant detail  of  a  crucifixion,  Jesus  saw  a  symbol  of  His 
truly  being  lifted  up,  not  merely  to  be  conspicuous, 
like  the  brazen  serpent  on  the  pole,  from  which  He 
drew  the  emblem,  but  to  be  truly  exalted  in  the  very 
moment  of  deepest  shame.  You  will  remember,  too, 
that  in  a  similar  fashion  He  again  used  the  very  same 
phrase  when  He  said,  "  I,  if  I  be  lifted  up  " — and  only 
if — "  will  draw  all  men  unto  me."  So  this  Evangelist, 
catching  the  spirit  of  His  Lord's  words,  and  echoing 
their  tone,  speaks  repeatedly  of  the  Son  of  Man's  being 
glorified  as  a  synonym  for  the  Son  of  Man's  being 
crucified.  I  need  not  quote  the  instances ;  they  will 
recur  to  your  memory.  At  all  events,  here  is  the  fact, 
that  to  Jesus  Christ  Himself,  looking  on  His  approaching 
death,  that  Cross  assumed,  with  swift  alternation,  two 
apparently  opposite  aspects.     At  one  moment,  as  we 


THE  CROSS  OF  GLORY  27 

have  seen  in  former  sermons,  He  shrank  from  it  as  dark 
and  grim,  and  in  the  next  moment,  as  we  see  here  in 
this  ringing  note  of  victory,  He  welcomes  it  as  the  very 
chmax  of  all  His  career.  Like  some  great  pillar  ele- 
vated on  a  mountain,  when  the  thmider-clouds  fill  the 
sky,  it  stands  out  grim  and  dark,  and  then  in  a  moment 
the  strong  wind  sweeps  them  away,  and  the  sunlight 
smites  it,  and  it  shines  out  white  and  lustrous.  With 
such  swift  alternations,  and  almost  a  confluence  of  the 
two  streams  of  feeling,  to  Jesus  Christ  the  Cross  was 
dark  and  the  Cross  was  radiant.  The  lowest  depth 
of  His  humiUation  was  the  highest  summit  of  His 
exaltation,  so  that  not  only,  as  one  of  the  Apostles  puts 
it,  "  He  humbled  Himself  unto  .  .  .  the  death  of  the 
Cross,"  and  "  therefore  God  hath  highly  exalted  Him," 
but  also  "  He  humbled  Himself  unto  the  death  of  the 
Cross,"  and  therein,  as  well  as  therefore,  He  is  highly 
exalted.  What,  then,  were  the  aspects  of  it  as  it  pre- 
sented itself  to  Him,  which  thus  made  Him  recognize, 
in  its  ignominy  and  in  its  shame,  in  its  pain  and  in  its 
desolation,  the  loftiest  point  in  His  whole  mission  ? 

First,  it  was  the  supreme  revelation  of  Himself,  and 
for  Him  to  be  known  is  to  be  glorified.  He  had  been 
filtering,  as  it  were,  His  gracious  gentleness.  His  utter 
self-surrender.  His  all-embracing  pity,  in  drops  of  mercy 
and  love  and  deeds  of  brotherhood  and  tenderness, 
through  all  His  life  ;  but  what  had  been  dropped  was 
now  being  poured  out  in  a  full  flood.     Because  He 


28  THE  CROSS  OF  GLORY 

therein  was  able  to  express  utter  pity,  entire  self- 
abandonment,  love  that  shrank  from  no  surrender 
for  the  sake  of  the  beloved,  therefore  to  Him  the  Cross, 
which  thus  revealed  the  infinitude  of  His  tenderness, 
was  His  glorifying.  One  can  fancy  a  mother  bending 
over  her  child,  and  shrinking  from  no  pain  or  suffering, 
if  only  the  child  could  by  it  imderstand  the  infinite 
depths  of  the  mother's  heart.  And  so  Christ  says  to 
Himself  :  "  I  die,  and  then  they  will  understand  how  I 
loved  them."  That  was  His  idea  of  what  glory  is, — 
entire  self- surrender,  able  to  express  itself  to  the  utter- 
most in  the  giving  up  of  life,  and  so  to  steal  into 
men's  hearts. 

Then,  again,  the  thought  that  the  Cross  glorifies 
Jesus  rests  upon  the  fact  that  Jesus  recognized  His 
death  as  the  forth-putting  of  the  mightiest  power  that 
He  was  able  to  wield.  It  we  take  anything  but  the 
highest  (let  me,  for  simple  convenience,  use  the  word 
— the  evangelical)  conception  of  Christ's  death,  I  under- 
stand not  how  it  could  ever  appear  to  Him  as  being 
His  victory,  and  the  strongest  of  the  weapons  that  He 
wielded.  Rather,  surely,  it  must  have  seemed  to  Him, 
as  it  might  have  seemed  to  a  Socrates  or  a  John  Huss, 
His  definitive  defeat,  and  His  joining  the  ranks  of  the 
great  multitude  that  had  tried  to  help  men  and  had 
failed.  There  is  only  one  notion  of  what  Christ's  death 
was  and  is,  that  seems  to  me  to  focus,  so  to  speak, 
with  these  words  of  my  text.     If  in  it  the  Lamb  of  God 


THE  CROSS  OF  GLORY  29 

was  taking  away  the  sins  of  the  world,  then,  and  only 
then,  as  it  seems  to  me,  was  it  the  cUmax  of  His  work, 
and  the  very  brightness  of  His  glory.  Mighty  were 
His  deeds  of  healing  and  of  mercy,  and  mighty,  with 
the  might  of  gentleness,  were  His  words  of  wisdom 
and  penetrating  rebuke.  Mighty  were  the  beams  of 
radiance  that  streamed  from  His  pure  character,  but 
mightiest  of  all  are  the  forces  which  were  brought  into 
operation  in  humanity  by  that  death  which  redeemed 
the  world.  This  Samson  slew  more  of  the  Philistine 
foes  in  His  death  than  in  His  life  ;  and  at  the  moment, 
when,  apparently,  He  was  most  powerless  and  manacled, 
He  took  the  gates  of  the  prison-house  on  His  strong 
shoulders  and  bore  them  away,  and  set  the  oppressed 
free.  Christ's  death  is  the  store-house  of  His  power. 
The  greatest  of  all  the  deeds  that  He  did,  He  did  when 
He  died. 

That  death  is  His  glorifying,  inasmuch  as  it  is  His 
one  means  of  winning  men's  hearts.  If  you  take  it 
out  of  His  work,  you  de-magnetize  Jesus,  and  He  has 
no  longer  the  attractive  power  which  draws  all  men 
unto  Him.  So,  because  of  its  being  His  perfect  self- 
revelation,  because  of  its  being  His  most  potent  instru- 
ment, because  of  its  being  the  secret  of  His  charm  to 
win  men's  hearts  when  its  significance  is  rightly  appre- 
hended. He  stood  looking  across  the  narrow  cleft  that 
separated  Him  from  Calvary,  and  proclaimed  :  "  Now 
is  the  Son  of  Man  glorified." 


30  THE  CROSS  OF  GLORY 

Let  me  remind  you,  in  one  sentence,  that  He  calls 
Himself  here  "  the  Son  of  Man."  That  Name  means, 
whatever  else  it  means,  the  realized  ideal  of  humanity, 
and  therefore  the  path  that  He  trod  is  the  path  that 
we  have  to  tread.  "  Glory  " — let  us  understand  what 
it  is,  not  the  vulgar  thing  that  goes  strutting  about 
the  world,  and  calls  itself  by  that  name.  Flaunting 
sun-flowers  and  gaudy  poppies  are  not  so  fair  as  the 
violet  hiding  below  the  stone,  or  as  the  pure  white  of 
the  lily.  If  we  seek  for  glory,  let  us  learn  that  the 
highest  glory  is  to  forget  self,  and  to  surrender  life  for 
the  blessing  of  others.  That  is  the  path  by  which 
Christ  sought  and  found  it,  "  leaving  us  an  example 
that  we  should  follow  His  steps." 

Now  turn  to 

II.  The  Son  as  Glorifying  God. 
"  Now  is  the  Son  of  Man  glorified,  and  God  is  glorified 
in  Him."  Does  not  that  strike  you  as  being  the  expres- 
sion of  a  consciousness  of  imion  with  God  much  more 
close  than  anything  to  which  we  can  aspire  ?  Does 
a  mart's  virtue,  however  lustrous  and  radiant  it  may 
be,  "  glorify  God,"  except  in  a  roundabout  fashion  ? 
But  Jesus  Christ  here  speaks  as  if  His  glorification 
was  also,  in  a  direct  and  immediate  way,  God's  being 
glorified.  Do  the  words  not  sound  as  if  a  world  too 
wide  for  the  facts,  if  Jesus  was  no  more  than  one  of 
ourselves,  with  no  other  or  closer  relation  to  God  than 
the  rest  of  us  hold  ?     To  me  I  confess  they  cannot  be 


THE  CROSS  OF  GLORY  31 

freed  from  the  charge  of  exaggeration,  unless  we  come 
to  the  old  faith  :  "  the  Word  became  flesh,  and  dwelt 
among  us ;  and  we  beheld  His  glory,  the  glory  as  of 
the  only  Begotten  of  the  Father." 

But  I  pass  on  to  fix  rather  upon  this  one  other  thought, 
that  according  to  our  Lord's  own  conception  of  what 
His  death  meant,  the  world  is  to  find  in  it  the  very 
chief  est,  most  brilliant  outraying  of  the  uncreated 
light  of  God.  Is  not  that  a  tremendous  claim  for  a 
man  to  make  ?  Stars  and  sun  pale  their  light,  all  the 
magnificences  and  subtleties  of  creative  energy  dwindle 
into  comparative  insignificance ;  even  the  voice  by 
which  God  proclaims  Himself  in  the  depth  of  men's 
hearts  is  hushed  as  into  silence.  For  those  who 
seek  to  attain  the  truest  and  the  loftiest  idea  of  God, 
there  is  but  one  course  to  take — to  turn  away  from 
Creation,  with  its  inconceivable  magnitudes  and  as 
inconceivable  minutenesses,  suns  and  microbes,  and  from 
Providence  with  its  perplexities,  from  the  intuitions 
of  our  own  hearts,  and  the  monitions  of  our  own  con- 
sciences, and  to  turn  to  that  Cross.  A  strange  embodi- 
ment of  Divine  power,  or  Divine  wisdom,  but  not  a 
strange  embodiment  of  the  infinite  seeking  love  of  the 
Father  God,  is  that  weak  Man,  dying  there  in  the  dark. 
As  we  look,  if  we  are  wise,  we  shall  cry  out  with  the 
prophet,  though  with  a  new  application  of  his  words : 
"  Lo  !  this  is  our  God  ;  we  have  waited  for  Him,  and 
He  will  save  us."     God  is  glorified  in  Him,  for  in  Him, 


32  THE  CROSS  OF  GLORY 

and  in  His  death  rightly  apprehended,  there  is  a  revela- 
tion of  far  more  than  the  physical  attributes,  which 
are  mainly  the  opposite  of  human  Hmitations,  and  the 
transcendence  of  human  conceptions.  There  is  more 
than  merely  the  attributes  which  declare  purity  of 
moral  nature  or  righteousness  of  administration — 
these  are  the  fringes  of  the  brightness,  but  the  central 
heart  of  it  is  the  great  message  of  the  Cross,  God  is  love. 
"  He  commendeth  His  love  towards  us,  in  that  while  we 
were  yet  sinners,  Christ  died  for  us." 

And  so  I  come  to  the  last  of  these  three-fold  glorify- 
ings— 

III.  The  Father  as  Glorifying  the  Son. 

"  He  will  glorify  Him  in  Himself,  and  will  straightway 
glorify  Him."  I  cannot  deal  adequately  with  the  great, 
though  dim,  thoughts  which  emerge  from  that  utter- 
ance, but  let  me  just  suggest  them  to  you  very  brieiSiy. 
"  God  will  glorify  Him  in  Himself ;  " — take,  for  com- 
mentary another  word  of  Christ's  in  that  great  inter- 
cessory prayer  where  He  prays  :  "  Glorify  me  with 
thine  own  self  with  the  glory  which  I  had  with  thee 
before  the  world  was,"  and  again,  when  in  language 
which  singularly  blends  petition  and  authority,  He 
asks :  "  I  will  that  they  also  whom  Thou  hast  given 
Me  be  with  me  .  .  .  that  they  may  behold  My  glory, 
which  thou  hast  given  me."  Who  can  add  anything  to 
these  words  ?  Our  comments  would  but  weaken  them, 
and  our  speech  would  sound  thin  and  harsh  in  contrast 


THE  CROSS  OF  GLORY  33 

with  their  mighty  music,  as  a  shepherd's  reed  is  to  the 
deep  notes  of  a  great  organ.  I  only  venture  to  put 
beside  them  another  word  from  this  Gospel :  "In  the 
beginning  was  the  Word,  and  the  Word  was  with  God, 
and  the  Word  was  God,"  and  I  beseech  you  to  ponder 
on  these  great  sayings.  May  they  help  us  all  to  under- 
stand AVho  it  was  that  went  to  His  death,  and  what  it 
was  that  His  death  did  ! 

But  then,  notice  further  how  here  we  get,  in  the  very 
language  of  my  text,  a  wonderful  thought  added  to 
that  of  "  the  glory  before  the  world  was."  For  it  is 
"  the  Son  of  Man "  that  is  to  be  "  glorified  by  the 
Father,"  and  that  means  that  the  Jesus  Who  dwelt 
amongst  men,  our  elder  Brother,  the  bearer  of  our 
nature,  is  now  "  the  first  Begotten  from  the  dead,  and 
the  Prince  of  all  the  kings  of  the  earth,"  and  "  sitteth 
at  the  right  hand  of  God  the  Father  Almighty."  What 
the  shekinah-cloud  signified  when  it  received  into  its 
lustrous  folds  the  ascending  Christ,  and  hid  Him  from 
the  gaze  of  His  disciples,  was  just  that  Man  was  encom- 
passed vnih  the  radiance  of  God. 

So,  brethren,  this  vision  of  "  the  glory  that  should 
follow"  united  with  His  love  and  His  pity  to  draw 
Jesus,  with  the  whole  consent  of  His  heart,  to  the 
Cross,  because  through  the  gloom  that  wrapped  it, 
He  saw  the  light  of  the  glory  beyond.  In  hke  manner, 
since  it  is  as  the  Son  of  man  that  He  is  glorified,  if 
we  follow  Him,  if  we,  too,  count  our  glory  to  be  utter 

M.S.  3 


34  THE  CROSS  OF  GLORY 

self-surrender,  if  we  are  magnetized  by  the  attraction 
of  His  Cross,  if  we  yield  to  Him  as  thereby  enthroned 
King  of  men,  if  we  seek  in  our  daily  Hves  to  glorify  Him, 
and  God  through  Him,  then  we,  too,  will  be  permitted, 
as  is  said  of  one  of  the  Apostles,  by  our  manner  of  death 
to  glorify  God,  and  we,  too,  are  entitled,  not  indeed 
to  make  the  glory  that  shall  follow  our  supreme  motive 
or  impulse  to  lives  of  holiness  and  Christian  service, 
but  to  encourage  ourselves,  in  the  midst  of  our  diffi- 
culties, and  to  brace  ourselves  for  any  cross  that  may 
he  before  us,  by  having  respect  unto  the  Crown  that  is 
beyond  the  Cross. 

If  we  take  Christ  for  the  glory  of  our  lives,  and  use 
our  lives  for  the  glory  of  Christ,  then  we  may  humbly 
believe  that  the  glory  which  the  Father  gave  to  Him, 
He,  according  to  His  own  promise,  will  give  to  us, 
and  that  we  shall  sit  down  with  Him  on  His  throne, 
even  as  He  overcame,  and  is  set  down  with  the  Father 
on    His    throne. 


Cannot  and  Can 

Little  children,  yet  a  little  while  I  am  with  you.  Ye  shall  seek  Me  : 
and  as  I  said  unto  the  Jews,  whither  I  go  ye  cannot  come ;  so  now 
say  to  you.— John  xiii.  33. 

WE  have  seen,  in  previous  sermons  on  the  preceding 
context,  how  large  and  black  the  Cross  loomed 
before  Jesus  now,  and  how  radiant  the  glory  beyond 
shone  out  to  Him.  But  it  was  only  for  a  moment  that 
either  of  these  two  absorbed  His  thoughts  ;  and  with 
wonderful  self-forgetfulness  and  self-command,  He 
turned  away  at  once  from  the  consideration  of  how  the 
near  future  was  to  affect  Him,  to  the  thought  of  how  it 
was  to  affect  the  handful  of  helpless  disciples  who  had 
to  be  left  alone.  Impending  separation  breaks  up  the 
fountains  of  the  heart,  and  we  all  know  the  instinct  that 
desires  to  crowd  all  the  often  hidden  love  into  some  one 
last  token.  So  here  our  Lord  addresses  His  disciples  by 
a  name  that  is  never  used  except  this  once,  "  little 
children,"  a  fond  diminutive  that  not  only  reveals  an 
unusual  depth  of  tender  emotion,  but  also  breathes  a 


36  CANNOT  AND  CAN 

pitjdng  sense  of  their  defencelessness  when  they  are  to 
be  left  alone.  So  might  a  dying  mother  look  at  her 
little  ones. 

But  the  words  that  follow,  at  first  sight,  are  dark 
with  the  sense  of  a  final  and  complete  separation.  "  Ye 
shall  seek  Me  " — and  not  only  so,  but  He  seems  to  put 
back  His  humble  friends  into  the  same  place  as  had  been 
occupied  by  His  bitter  foes — "  as  I  said  to  the  Jews, 
whither  I  go  ye  cannot  come;  so  now  I  say  to  you." 
There  was  something  that  prevented  both  classes  alike 
from  keeping  Him  company ;  and  He  had  to  walk 
His  path  both  into  the  darkness  and  into  the  glory, 
alone. 

The  words  apply  in  their  fulness  only  to  the  paren- 
thesis of  time  whilst  He  lay  in  the  grave,  and  the  dis- 
ciples despairingly  thought  that  all  was  ended.  It 
was  a  brief  period  ;  it  was  a  revolutionary  moment ; 
and  though  it  was  soon  to  end,  they  needed  to  be  guarded 
against  it.  But  though  the  words  do  not  apply  to  the 
permanent  relation  between  the  glorified  Christ  and  us. 
His  disciples,  yet  partly  by  similarity,  and  still  more  by 
contrast,  they  do  suggest  great  Christian  thoughts, 
great  Christian  blessednesses,  and  imperative  Christian 
duties.  These  gather  themselves  mainly  round  two 
contrasts,  a  transitory  "  cannot "  soon  to  be  changed 
into  a  permanent  "  can  "  ;  and  a  momentary  seeking, 
soon  to  be  converted  into  a  blessed  seeking  which  finds. 
I  now  deal  only  with  the  former. 


CANNOT  AND  CAN  37 

We  have  here  a  transitory  "  cannot  "  soon  to  be 
changed  into  a  permanent  "  can." 

"  Whither  I  go  ye  cannot  come."  Does  not  one  hear 
a  tone  of  personal  sorrow  in  that  saying  ?  Jesus  had 
always  hungered  for  understanding  and  sympathetic  com- 
panions, and  one  of  His  life-long  sorrows  had  been  His 
utter  loneliness  ;  but  He  had  never,  all  the  long  time  that 
He  had  been  with  them,  so  put  out  His  hand,  feeling  for 
some  warm  clasp,  of  a  human  hand  to  help  Him  in  His 
struggle,  as  He  did  during  the  hours  terminating  with 
Gethsemane.  And  perhaps  we  may  venture  to  say  that 
we  hear  in  this  utterance  an  expression  of  Christ's  sorrow 
for  Himself  that  He  had  to  tread  the  dark  way,  and  to 
pass  into  the  brightness  beyond,  all  alone.  He  yearned 
for  the  impossible  human  companionship,  as  well  as  sor- 
rowed for  the  imperfections  which  made  it  impossible. 

Why  was  it  that  they  could  not  "  follow  Him  now  "  ? 
The  answer  to  that  question  is  found  in  the  considera- 
tion of  whither  it  was  that  He  went.  When  that  bright 
Shekinah-cloud  at  the  Ascension  received  Him  into  its 
radiant  folds,  it  showed  "why  they  could  not  follow  Him," 
because  it  revealed  that  He  went  unto  the  Father,  when 
He  left  the  world.  So  we  are  brought  face  to  face  with 
the  old,  solemn  thought  that  character  makes  capacity 
for  heaven.  "  Who  shall  ascend  into  the  hill  of  the 
Lord,  or  who  shall  stand  in  His  holy  place  ?  "  asked  the 
Psalmist ;  and  a  prophet  put  the  question  in  a  still 
sharper  form,  and  by  the  very  form  of  the  question 


38  CANNOT  AND  CAN 

suggested  a  negative  answer — "  Who  among  us  shall 
dwell  with  the  devouring  fire  ;  who  among  us  shall  dwell 
with  everlasting  burnings  ?  "  Who  can  pass  into  that 
Presence,  and  stand  near  God,  without  being,  like  the 
maiden  in  the  old  legend,  shrivelled  into  ashes  by  the 
contact  of  the  celestial  fire  ?  "  Holiness "  is  that 
"  without  which  no  man  shall  see  the  Lord."  And  we, 
all  of  us,  in  the  depths  of  our  own  hearts,  if  we  rightly 
understand  the  voices  that  ever  echo  there,  must  feel 
that  the  condition  which  is,  obviously  and  without  any 
need  for  arguing  it,  required  for  abiding  with  God,  and 
so  going  into  the  glory  where  Christ  is,  is  a  condition 
which  none  of  us  can  fulfil.  In  that  respect  the  imper- 
fect and  immature  friends,  the  little  children,  the  babes 
who  loved  and  yet  knew  not  Him  Whom  they  loved, 
and  the  scowling  enemies,  were  at  one.  For  they  had 
all  of  them  the  one  human  heart,  and  in  that  heart  the 
deep-lying  alienation  and  contrariety  to  God.  Therefore 
Christ  alone  trod  the  winepress,  and  alone  "  ascended 
up  where  He  was  before." 

But  let  us  remember  that  this  "  cannot  "  was  only  a 
transitory  cannot.  For  we  must  underscore  very 
deeply  that  word  in  my  text  "  so  now  I  say  to  you," 
and  a  moment  afterwards,  when  one  of  the  Apostles 
puts  the  question  :  "  Why  cannot  I  follow  Thee  now  ?  " 
the  answer  is :  "  Thou  canst  not  follow  Me  now ;  but 
thou  shalt  follow  Me  afterwards."  The  text,  too,  is 
succeeded  immediately  by  the  wonderful  parting  con- 


CANNOT  AND  CAN  39 

solations  and  counsels  spoken  to  the  disciples,  through 
all  of  which  there  gleams  the  promise  that  they  Avill  be 
with  Him  where  He  is,  and  behold  His  glory.  Set  side 
by  side  with  these  sad  words  of  our  Lord  in  the  text, 
by  which  He  unloosed  their  clasping  hands  from  Him, 
and  turned  His  face  to  His  solitary  path,  the  triumphant 
language  in  which  habitually  the  rest  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment speaks  of  the  Christian  man's  relation  to  Christ. 
Think  of  that  great  passage  :  "  Ye  are  come  unto  the 
city  of  God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  and  to  God  the 
Judge  of  all,  and  to  Jesus  the  Mediator  of  the  new 
covenant."  What  has  become  of  the  impossibility  ? 
Vanished.  Where  is  the  "  cannot  ?  "  Turned  into  a 
blessed  "  can  "  ?  And  so  Apostles  have  no  scruple  in 
saying,  "  Our  citizenship  is  in  Heaven,"  nor  in  saying, 
"  We  sit  together  with  Him  in  heavenly  places  in  Christ 
Jesus."  The  path  that  was  blocked  is  open.  The 
incapacity  that  towered  up  like  a  great,  black  wall  has 
melted  away  ;  and  the  path  into  the  holiest  of  all  is 
made  patent  by  the  blood  of  Christ.  For  in  that  death 
there  lies  the  power  that  sweeps  away  all  the  impedi- 
ments of  man's  sin,  and  in  that  life  of  the  risen,  glorified, 
indweUing  Christ  there  lies  the  power  which  cleanses 
the  inmost  heart  from  "  all  filthiness  of  flesh  and  spirit," 
and  makes  it  possible  for  our  mortal  feet  to  walk  on  the 
immortal  path,  and  for  us,  with  all  our  unworthiness, 
with  all  our  shrinking,  to  stand  in  His  presence  and  not 
be  ashamed  or  consumed.     "  Ye  cannot  come "  was 


40  CANNOT  AND  CAN 

true  for  a  few  days.     "  Ye  can  come  "  is  true  for  ever  ; 
and  for  all  Christian  men. 

But  let  us  not  forget  that  the  one  attitude  of  heart 
and  mind,  by  which  a  poor,  sinful  man,  who  dare  not 
draw  near  to  God,  receives  into  himself  the  merit  and 
power  of  the  death,  and  the  indwelling  power  of  the  life, 
of  Jesus  Christ,  is  personal  faith  in  Jesus  Christ.  To 
trust  Him  is  to  come  to  Him,  and  it  is  represented  in 
Scripture  as  conferring  an  instantaneous  fitness  for 
access  to  God.  People  pray  sometimes  that  they  may 
be  made  "  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in 
light,"  and  the  prayer  is,  in  a  sense,  wise  and  true.  But 
they  too  often  forget  that  the  apostle  says,  in  the  original 
connexion  of  the  words  which  they  so  quote  :  "  He  hath 
translated  us  from  the  tyranny  of  the  darkness,  and 
hath  made  us  meet  for  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in 
light."  That  is  to  say,  whenever  a  poor  soul,  compassed 
and  laden  with  its  infirmity  and  sin,  turns  itself  to  that 
Lord  Whose  Cross  conquers  sin,  and  Whose  blood 
infused  into  our  veins — the  spirit  of  whose  life  granted  to 
us — gives  us  to  partake  of  His  own  righteousness,  that 
moment  that  soul  can  tread  the  path  that  brings  into 
the  presence  of  God,  and  "  has  access  with  confidence 
by  the  faith  of  Him."  So,  brethren,  seeing  that  thus 
the  incapacity  may  all  be  swept  away,  and  that  instead 
of  a  "  cannot,"  which  relegates  us  to  darkness,  we  may 
receive  a  "  can  "  which  leads  us  into  the  light,  let  us  see 
to  it  that  this  communion,  which  is  possible  for  all 


CANNOT  AND  CAN  41 

Christian  men,  is  real  in  our  cases,  and  that  we  use  the 
access  which  is  given  to  us,  and  dwell  for  ever  in,  and 
with,  the  Lord. 

I  have  said  that  the  act  of  faith,  by  associating  a  man 
with  Jesus  Christ  in  the  power  of  His  death  and  of  His 
life,  makes  any  who  exercise  it  capable  of  passing  into 
the  presence  of  God.  But  I  would  remind  you,  too, 
that  to  make  us  more  fit  for  more  full  and  habitual 
communion  is  the  very  purpose  for  which  all  the  disci- 
pline of  our  earthly  life,  its  sorrows  and  its  joys,  its 
tasks  and  its  repose,  is  exercised  upon  us — "  He  for  our 
profit,  that  we  might  be  partakers  of  His  holiness." 
Surely,  if  we  habitually  took  that  point  of  view  in  refer- 
ence to  our  work,  in  reference  to  our  joys,  in  reference  to 
our  trials,  everything  would  be  different.  We  are  being 
prepared  with  sedulous  love,  with  patient  reiteration  of 
line  upon  line,  precept  upon  precept,  with  singularly 
varied  methods  but  a  uniform  purpose,  by  all  that 
meets  us  in  life,  to  be  more  capable  of  treading  the 
eternal  path  into  the  eternal  light.  Is  that  how  we 
daily  think  of  our  own  circumstances  ?  Do  we  bring 
that  great  thought  to  bear  upon  all  that  we,  sometimes 
faithlessly,  call  mysterious  or  mm-muringly  think  of — 
if  we  dare  not  speak  our  thought — as  being  cruel  and 
hard  ?  What  does  it  matter  if  some  precious  things 
be  Hfted  o£E  our  shoulders,  and  out  of  our  hearts,  if 
their  being  taken  away  makes  it  more  possible  for  us  to 
tread  with  a  lighter  step  the  path  of  peace  ?     What 


42  CANNOT  AND  CAN 

matters  it  thougli  many  things  that  we  would  fain  keep 
are  withdrawn  from  us,  if  by  the  withdrawal  we  are  sent  a 
little  further  forward  on  the  road  that  leads  to  God  ? 
As  George  Herbert  says,  sorrows  and  joys  are  like  battle- 
dores that  drive  a  shuttlecock,  and  they  may  all  "  toss 
us  to  Thy  breast."  In  faith,  however  infantile  it  may 
be,  there  is  an  undeveloped  capacity,  a  germ  of  fitness, 
for  dwelling  with  God.  But  that  capacity  is  meant  to 
be  increased,  and  the  little  children  are  meant  to  be 
helped  to  grow  up  into  full-grown  men,  "  the  measure 
of  the  stature  of  the  fulness  of  Christ,"  by  all  that  comes 
to  them  here  on  earth.  Do  you  not  think  we  should 
understand  life  better,  do  you  not  think  it  would  all  be 
flashed  up  into  new  radiance,  do  you  not  think  we  should 
more  seldom  stand  bewildered  at  what  we  choose  to  call 
the  inscrutable  dispensations  of  Providence,  if  this  were 
the  point  of  view  from  which  we  looked  at  them  all — 
that  they  were  fitting  us  for  perpetual  abiding  with  our 
Father  God  ? 

Nor  let  us  forget  that  there  was  a  transient  "  cannot  " 
of  another  sort.  For  "  flesh  and  blood  cannot  inherit 
the  Kingdom  of  God."  So,  as  life  is  changed  when  we 
think  of  it  as  helping  us  toward  Him,  death  is 
changed  when  we  think  of  it  as  being,  if  I  may  so  say, 
the  usher  in  attendance  on  the  Presence-chamber,  who 
draws  back  the  thin  curtain  that  separates  us  from  the 
Throne,  and  takes  us  by  the  hands  and  leads  us  into  the 
Presence.     Surely  if  we  habitually  thought  thus  of  that 


CANNOT  AND  CAN  43 

otherwise  grim  chamberlain,  we  should  be  willing  to  put 
our  hands  into  his,  as  a  little  child  will,  when  straying, 
into  the  hands  of  a  stranger  who  says,  "  Come  with 
me  and  I  will  take  you  home  to  your  father."  "  As  I 
said  unto  the  Jews  ...  so  now  I  say  to  you,  whither 
I  go,  ye  cannot  come." 

Let  us  press  on  you  and  on  myself  the  one  thought 
that  comes  out  of  all  that  I  have  been  saying,  the  blessed 
possibility,  which,  because  it  is  a  possibility,  is  an  obliga- 
tion, to  use  far  more  than  most  of  us  do,  the  right  of 
access  to  the  King  Who  is  our  Father.  There  are  nobles 
and  corporate  bodies,  who  regard  it  as  one  of  their 
chief  distinctions  that  they  have  always  the  right  of 
entree  to  the  Court  of  the  Sovereign.  Every  Christian 
man  has  that.  And  in  old  days,  when  a  baron  did  not 
show  himself  at  Court,  suspicion  naturally  arose,  and 
he  was  in  danger  of  being  thought  disaffected,  if  not 
traitorous.  Ah  !  if  you  and  I  were  judged  according 
to  that  law,  what  would  become  of  us  ?  We  can  go 
when  we  like.  How  seldom  we  do  go  !  We  can  live 
in  the  heavens  whilst  our  work  lies  down  here.  We 
prefer  the  low  earth  to  the  lofty  sky.  "  We  are  come  " 
— ideally,  and  in  the  depths  of  our  nature,  our  aifmities 
are  there — "  unto  God,  the  Judge  of  all,  and  to  Jesus 
the  Mediator  of  the  new  covenant."  Are  we  come  ? 
Are  we  day  by  day,  in  all  the  pettiness  of  our  ordinary 
lives,  when  compassed  by  hard  duties,  weighed  upon  by 
sore  distress — still  keeping  our  hearts  in  Heaven,  and 


44  CANNOT  AND  CAN 

our  feet  familiar  with  the  path  that  leads  us  to  God  ? 
"  Set  your  affections  on  things  above,  where  Jesus  is, 
sitting  at  the  right  hand  of  God."  For  there  is  no 
"  cannot "  for  His  servants  in  regard  to  their  access  to 
any  place  where  He  is. 


Seeking  Jesus 

Ye  shall  seek  Me. — John  xiii.  33. 

IN  the  former  sermon  on  this  verse  I  pointed  out  that 
it,  in  its  fulness,  applies  only  to  the  brief  period 
between  the  Crucifixion  and  the  Resurrection,  but  that, 
partly  by  contrast  and  partly  by  analogy,  it  suggests 
permanent  relations  between  Christ  and  His  disciples. 
These  relations  were  mainly — as  I  pointed  out  then — 
two :  there  was  that  one  expressed  by  the  subsequent 
words  of  the  verse,  "  Whither  I  go,  ye  cannot  come  " — 
a  brief  "  cannot,"  soon  to  be  changed  into  a  permanent 
"  can  "  ;  and  there  was  a  second,  a  brief,  sad,  and  vain 
seeking,  soon  to  be  changed  into  a  seeking  which  finds. 
It  is  to  the  latter  that  I  wish  to  turn  now. 

"  Ye  shall  seek  Me  "  fell,  like  the  clods  on  a  coffin-hd, 
with  a  hollow  sound  on  the  hearts  of  the  Apostles.  It 
comes  to  us  as  a  permission,  and  a  command,  and  a 
promise.  I  do  not  dwell  on  that  sad  seeking,  which 
was  so  brief  but  so  bitter.  We  all  know  what  it  is  to 
put  out  an  empty  hand  into  the  darkness  and  the  void, 

45 


46  SEEKING  JESUS 

and  to  grope  for  a  touch  which  we  know,  whilst  we  grope, 
that  we  shall  not  find.  And  these  poor  helpless  dis- 
ciples, by  their  forlorn  sense  of  separation,  by  their 
yearning  that  brought  no  satisfaction,  by  their  very 
listless  despair,  were  saying,  during  these  hours  of  agony 
into  which  an  eternity  of  pain  was  condensed,  "  Oh ! 
that  He  were  beside  us  again  !  " 

That  sad  seeking  ended  when  He  came  to  them,  and 
"  then  were  the  disciples  glad  when  they  saw  the  Lord." 
But  another  kind  of  seeking  began,  when  the  cloud 
received  Him  out  of  their  sight ;  as  joyful  as  the  other 
was  laden  with  sorrow,  as  sure  to  find  the  object  of  its 
quest  as  the  other  was  certain  to  be  disappointed.  What 
He  said  in  the  darkness  to  them.  He  says  in  the  light  to 
us :  What  I  say  unto  you  I  say  unto  all.  Seek !  So 
now  we  have  to  deal  with  that  joyful  search  which  is 
sure  of  finding  its  object,  and  is  only  a  little,  if  at  all, 
less  blessed  than  the  finding  itself. 
1. — Every  Christian  is,  by  his  very  name,  a  seeker 
after  christ. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  seeking,  one  like  that  of  a  bird 
whose  young  have  been  stolen  away,  which  flutters 
here  and  there,  because  it  knows  not  where  that  is  which 
it  seeks ;  another,  like  the  flight  of  the  same  bird,  when 
the  migrating  instinct  rises  in  its  little  breast,  and 
straight  as  an  arrow  it  goes,  not  because  it  knows  not 
its  goal,  but  because  it  knows  it,  yonder  where  the  sun 
is  warm  and  the  sky  is  blue,  and  winter  is  left  behind  in 


SEEKING  JESUS  47 

the  cold  North.  "  Ye  shall  seek  Me  "  is  the  word  of 
promise,  which  changes  the  vain  search  that  is  ignorant 
of  where  the  object  of  its  quest  is,  into  a  blessed  going 
out  of  the  heart  towards  that  which  it  knows  to  be  the 
home  of  its  homelessness.  Thus  the  text  brings  out 
the  very  central  blessedness  and  peculiarity  of  the 
Christian  life,  that  it  has  no  uncertainty  in  its  aims, 
and  that,  instead  of  seeking  for  things  which  may  or 
may  not  be  found,  or  if  found  may  or  may  not  prove 
to  be  what  we  dreamt  them  to  be,  it  seeks  for  a  Person 
Whom  it  knows  where  to  find,  and  of  Whom  it  knows 
that  all  its  desires  will  be  met  in  Him.  We  have,  then, 
on  the  one  side  the  multifarious,  divergent  searchings  of 
man ;  and  on  the  other  side  the  one  quest  in  which  all 
these  others  are  gathered  up,  and  translated  into  blessed- 
ness — the  seeking  after  Jesus  Christ. 

Men  know  that  they  need,  if  I  may  so  put  it,  four 
things  :  truth  for  the  understanding,  love  round  which 
the  heart  may  coil,  authority  for  the  will  which  may 
direct  and  restrain,  and  energy  for  the  practical  life. 
But,  apart  from  the  quest  after  Christ,  men  for  the  most 
part  seek  these  necessary  goods  in  divers  objects,  and 
fragmentarily  look  for  the  completion  of  their  desires. 
But  fragments  will  never  satisfy  a  man's  soul,  and  they 
who  have  to  go  to  one  place  for  truth,  and  to  another 
for  love,  and  to  another  for  authority,  and  to  another  for 
energy,  are  wofully  likely  never  to  find  what  they  search 
for.      They  are  seeking  in  the  Manifold  what  can  be 


48  SEEKING  JESUS 

found  only  in  the  One.  It  is  as  if  some  vessel,  full  of 
precious  stones,  were  thrown  down  before  men,  and 
whilst  they  are  racing  after  the  diamonds,  they  lose  the 
emeralds  and  the  sapphires.  But  the  wise  concentrate 
their  seekings  on  the  one  Pearl  of  great  price,  in  Whom 
is  truth  for  the  brain,  love  for  the  heart,  authority  for 
the  will,  power  for  the  life,  and  all  summed  in  that  which 
is  more  blessed  than  all,  the  Person  of  the  Brother  Who 
died  for  us,  the  Christ  Who  lives  to  fill  our  hearts  for 
ever.  One  sun  dims  all  the  stars  ;  and  the  "  one  entire 
and  perfect  ChrysoHte  "  beggars  and  reduces  to  fragments 
"  all  the  precious  things  that  thou  canst  desire." 

To  seek  Him  is  the  very  hall-mark  of  a  Christian,  and 
that  seeking  comes  to  be  an  earnest  desire  and  effort 
after  more  conscious  communion  with  Him,  and  a  more 
entire  possession  of  His  imparted  life  which  is  righteous- 
ness and  peace  and  joy  and  power.  According  to  the 
Rabbis,  the  manna  tasted  to  each  man  what  each  man 
most  desired.  The  manifoldness  of  the  one  Christ  is  far 
more  manifold  than  the  manifoldness  of  the  multiplicity 
of  fragmentary  and  partial  aims  which  foolish  men 
perceive. 

The  ways  of  seeking  are  very  plain.  First  of  all,  we 
seek  if,  and  in  proportion  as,  we  do  make  the  effort 
to  occupy  our  thoughts  and  minds,  not  with  theological 
dogmas,  but  with  the  hving  Christ  Himself.  Ah ! 
brethren,  it  is  hard  to  do,  and  I  daresay  a  great  many  of 
you  are  thinking  that  it  is  far  harder  for  you,  in  the 


SEEKING  JESUS  49 

distractions  and  rush  and  conflict  of  business  and  daily 
life,  than  it  is  for  people  like  me,  whom  you  think  of  as 
sitting  in  a  study,  with  nothing  to  distract  us.  I  do 
not  know  about  that ;  I  fancy  it  is  about  equally  hard 
for  us  all ;  but  it  is  possible.  I  have  been  in  Alpine 
villages  where,  at  the  end  of  every  squalid  alley,  there 
towered  up  a  great,  pure,  silent,  white  peak.  That  is 
what  our  lives  may  be  :  however  noisome,  crowded, 
petty  the  little  lane  in  which  we  live,  tlie  Alp  is  at  the 
end  of  it  there,  if  we  only  choose  to  lift  our  eyes  and 
look.  It  is  possible  that  not  only  "  into  the  sessions  of 
sweet,  silent  thought,"  but  into  the  rush  and  bustle  of 
the  workshop  or  the  exchange,  there  may  come,  like 
"  some  sweet,  beguiling  melody,  so  sweet  we  know  not 
we  are  listening  to  it,"  the  thought  that  changes  pettiness 
into  greatness,  that  makes  aU  things  go  smoothly  and 
easily,  that  is  a  test  and  a  charm  to  discover  and  to 
destroy  temptation,  the  thought  of  a  present  Christ, 
the  Lover  of  my  soul,  and  the  Helper  of  my  hfe. 

Again,  we  seek  Him  when,  by  aspiration  and  desire, 
we  bring  Him— as  He  is  always  brought  thereby— into 
our  hearts  and  into  our  lives.  The  measure  of  our 
desire  is  the  measure  of  our  possession.  Wishing  is  the 
opening  of  our  hearts,  but,  alas  !  often  we  wish  and  desire, 
and  the  heart  opens  and  nothing  enters.  Wishes  are 
like  the  tentacles  of  some  marine  organism  waving  about 
in  a  waste  ocean,  feeling  for  the  food  that  it  does  not 
find.  But  if  we  open  our  hearts  for  Him,  that  is  simul- 
M.s.  4 


50  SEEKING  JESUS 

taneous  with  the  coming  of  Him  to  us.  "  Ye  have  not, 
because  ye  ask  not."  Do  not  forget,  dear  friends,  that 
desire,  if  it  is  genuine,  will  take  a  very  concrete  form 
and  will  be  prayer.  And  it  is  prayer — by  which  I  do 
not  mean  the  utterance  of  words  without  desire,  any 
more  than  I  mean  desire  without  the  direct  casting  of  it 
into  the  form  of  supplication — ^it  is  prayer  that  brings 
Christ  into  any,  and  it  is  prayer  that  will  bring  Him  into 
every,  Ufe. 

Nor  let  us  forget  that  there  is  another  way  of  seeking 
besides  these  two,  of  looldng  up  to  Him  through,  and  in 
the  midst  of,  all  the  shows  and  trifles  of  this  low  life, 
and  the  reaching  out  of  our  desires  towards  Him,  as  the 
roots  of  a  tree  beneath  the  soil  go  straight  for  the  river. 
That  other  way  is  imitation  and  obedience.  It  is  vain 
to  think  of  Him,  and  it  is  unreal  to  pretend  to  desire 
Him,  if  we  are  not  seeking  Him  by  treading  in  the  path 
that  He  has  trod,  and  which  leads  to  Him.  Imitation 
and  obedience — these  are  the  steps  by  wliich  we  go 
straight  through  all  the  triviaUties  of  life  into  the  pres- 
ence of  the  Lord  Himself.  The  smallest  deflection  from 
the  path  that  leads  to  Him  will  carry  us  away  into 
doleful  wastes.  The  least  invisible  cloud  that  steals 
across  the  sky  will  blot  out  half  a  hemisphere  of  stars  ; 
and  we  seek  not  Christ  unless,  thinking  of  Him,  and 
desiring  Him,  we  also  walk  in  the  path  in  which  He  has 
walked,  and  so  come  where  He  is.  He  Himself  has  said 
that  if  His  servant  follows  Him,  where  He  is,  there  shall 


SEEKING  JESUS  61 

also  His  servant  be.     These  things  make  up  the  seeking 
which  ought  to  mark  us  all. 
I  note  that 

II. — THE   CHRISTIAN   SEEKER  ALWAYS   FINDS. 

I  pointed  out  in  my  last  sermon  the  strange  identity 
of  our  Lord's  words  to  His  humble  friends,  with  those 
which  on  another  occasion  He  used  to  His  bitter  enemies. 
He  reminds  the  disciples  of  that  identity  in  the  verse 
from  which  my  text  comes  :  "As  I  said  to  the  Jews 
...  so  now  I  say  to  you."  But  there  was  one  thing 
that  He  said  to  the  Jews  that  He  did  not  say  to  them. 
To  the  former  He  said,  "  Ye  shall  seek  me,  and  shall  not 
find  me  ";  and  He  did  not  say  that — even  for  the  sad 
hours  it  was  not  quite  true — He  did  not  say  that  to  His 
followers,  and  He  does  not  say  it  to  us. 

If  we  seek  we  shall  find.  There  is  no  disappointment 
in  the  Christian  life.  Anything  is  possible  rather  than 
that  a  man  should  desire  Christ  and  not  have  Him. 
That  has  never  been  the  experience  of  any  seeking  soul. 
And  so  I  urge  upon  you  what  has  already  been  suggested, 
that  inasmuch  as,  by  reason  of  His  infinite  longing  to 
give  truth  and  love  and  guidance  and  energy  and  His 
whole  Self,  to  all  of  us,  the  amount  of  our  possession  of 
the  power  and  life  of  Jesus  Christ  depends  on  ourselves. 
If  you  take  to  the  fountain  a  tiny  cup,  you  will  only 
bring  away  a  tiny  cup-full.  If  you  take  a  great  vessel 
you  will  bring  it  away  full.  As  long  as  the  woman  in 
the  old  story  held  out  her  vessel  to  the  miraculous  flow 


52  SEEKING  JESUS 

of  the  oil,  the  flow  continued.  When  she  had  no  more 
vessels  to  take,  the  flow  stopped.  If  a  man  holds  a 
flagon  beneath  a  spigot,  with  an  unsteady  hand,  half 
of  the  precious  liquor  will  be  spilt  on  the  ground.  Those 
who  fulfil  the  conditions,  of  which  I  have  already  been 
spealdng,  may  make  quite  sure  that  according  to  their 
faith  will  it  be  unto  them.  And  if  you,  dear  friend,  have 
not  in  your  experience  the  conscious  presence  of  a  Christ 
Who  is  all  that  you  need,  there  is  no  one  in  heaven  or 
earth  or  hell  to  blame  for  it  but  only  your  own  self. 
"  I  have  never  said  to  any  of  the  seed  of  Jacob,  Seek 
ye  My  face  in  vain,"  and  when  the  Lord  said,  "  Ye 
shall  seek  Me,"  He  was  implicitly  binding  Himself  to 
meet  the  seeking  soul,  and  give  Himself  to  the  desiring 
heart. 

Remember,  too,  that  this  seeking,  which  is  always 
crowned  with  finding,  is  the  only  search  in  which  failure 
is  impossible.  There  is  only  one  course  of  life  that  has 
no  disappointments.  We  all  know  how  frequently  we 
are  foiled  in  our  quests ;  we  all  know  how  often  a  prize 
won  is  a  bitterer  disappointment  than  a  prize  unattained. 
Like  a  jelly-fish  in  the  water,  as  long  as  it  is  there  its  tenu- 
ous substance  is  lovely,  expanded,  tinged  with  delicate 
violets  and  blues,  and  its  long  filaments  float  in  lines  of 
beauty.  Lay  it  on  the  beach,  and  it  is  a  shapeless  lump, 
and  it  poisons  and  stings.  You  fish  your  prize  out  of  the 
great  ocean,  and  when  you  have  it,  does  it  disappoint, 
or  does  it  fulfil,  the  raised  expectations  of  the  quest  ? 


SEEKING  JESUS  53 

There  is  One  that  does  not  disappoint.  There  is  one 
gold  mine  that  comes  up  to  the  prospectus.  There  is 
one  spring  that  never  runs  dry.  The  more  deep  our 
Christian  experience  is,  the  more  we  shall  take  the 
rapturous  exclamation  of  the  Arabian  queen  to  our- 
selves :  "  The  half  was  not  told  us." 
And  so,  lastly,  I  suggest  that — 

III. — THE    FINDING   IMPELS   TO   FRESH   SEEKING. 

The  object  of  the  Christian  man's  quest  is  Jesus 
Christ.  He  is  Incarnate  Infinitude  ;  and  that  cannot 
be  exhausted.  The  seeker  after  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
Christian  soul.  That  soul  is  the  incarnate  possibility  of 
indefinite  expansion  and  approximation  and  assimilation ; 
and  that  cannot  be  exliausted.  And  so,  with  a  Christ 
who  is  infinite,  and  a  seeker  whose  capacities  may  be 
indefinitely  expanded,  there  can  be  no  satiety,  there 
can  be  no  limit,  there  can  be  no  end  to  the  process. 
This  wine- skin  will  not  burst  when  the  new  wine  is  put 
into  it.  Rather  like  some  elastic  vessel,  as  you  pour  it 
will  fill  out  and  expand.  Possession  enlarges,  and  the 
more  of  Christ's  fulness  is  poured  into  a  human  heart, 
the  more  is  that  heart  widened  out  to  receive  a  greater 


Dear  brethren,  there  is  one  course  of  fife,  and  I  believe 
but  one,  on  which  we  may  all  enter  with  the  sure  con- 
fidence that  in  the  nature  of  things,  in  the  nature  of 
Christ  and  in  the  nature  of  ourselves,  there  is  no  end  to 
growth  and  progress.    Think  of  the  freshness  and  blessed- 


54  SEEKING  JESUS 

ness  and  energy  that  puts  into  a  life.  To  have  an 
unattained  and  unattainable  object,  a  goal  to  which  we 
can  never  come,  but  to  which  we  may  ever  be  approxi- 
mating, seems  to  me  to  be  the  secret  of  perpetual  joy 
and  of  perpetual  youthfulness.  To  say,  "  forgetting 
the  things  that  are  behind,  I  reach  forward  unto  the 
things  that  are  before,"  is  a  charm  and  an  amulet  that 
repels  monotony  and  weariness,  and  goes  with  a  man  to 
the  very  end,  and  when  all  other  aims  and  objects  have 
died  down  into  grey  ashes,  that  flame,  like  the  fabled 
lamp  in  Virgil's  tomb,  burns  clear  in  the  grave,  and 
lights  us  to  the  Eternity  beyond. 

For  certainly,  if  there  be  neither  satiety  nor  limit  to 
Christian  progress  here,  there  can  be  no  better  and 
stronger  evidence  that  Christian  progress  here  is  but 
the  first  "  lap  "  of  the  race,  the  first  stadium  of  the  course, 
and  that  beyond  that  narrow,  dark  line  that  lies  across 
the  path,  it  runs  on,  rising  higher,  and  will  run  on  for 
ever. 

"  On  earth  the  broken  arcs ;  in  heaven  the  perfect  round." 

Seek  for  what  you  are  sure  to  find  ;  seek  for  what  will 
never  disappoint  you  ;  seek  for  what  will  abide  with  you 
for  ever.  The  very  first  word  of  Christ's  recorded  in 
Scripture  is  a  question  which  He  puts  to  us  all :  "  What 
seek  ye  ?  "  Well  for  us  if,  like  the  two  to  whom  it  was 
originally  addressed,  we  answer,  "  We  are  not  seeking 
a   What ;    we   are   seeking   a   Whom. — Master,    where 


SEEKING  JESUS  65 

dwellest  Thou  1  "  And  if  we  have  that  answer  in  our 
hearts,  we  shall  receive  the  invitation  which  they 
received,  "  Come  and  see," — come  and  seek.  ''  Ye 
shall  seek  Me  "  is  a  gracious  invitation,  an  imperative 
command,  and  a  faithful  promise  that,  if  we  seek  we 
shall  find.  "  Whoso  findeth  Him  findeth  life  ;  whoso 
misseth  Him  "—whatever  else  he  has  sought  and  found 
— "  wrongeth  his  own  soul." 


"  As  I  have   Loved" 

A  new  commandment  I  give  unto  yon,  that  ye  love  one  another ; 
as  I  have  loved  you,  that  ye  also  love  one  another.  By  this  shall 
all  men  know  that  ye  are  My  disciples,  if  ye  have  love  one  to  another. 
—John  xiii.  34,  35. 

WISHES  from  dying  lips  are  sacred.  They  sink 
deep  into  memories  and  mould  faithful  lives. 
The  sense  of  impending  separation  had  added  an 
unwonted  tenderness  to  our  Lord's  address,  and  He 
had  designated  His  disciples  by  the  fond  name  of  "  little 
children."  The  same  sense  here  gives  authority  to  His 
words,  and  moulds  them  into  the  shape  of  a  command. 
The  disciples  had  held  together  because  He  was  in  their 
midst.  Will  the  arch  stand  when  the  keystone  is 
struck  out  ?  Will  not  the  spokes  fall  asunder  when 
the  nave  of  the  wheel  is  taken  away  ?  He  would  guard 
them  from  the  disintegrating  tendencies  that  were  sure 
to  set  in  when  He  was  gone  ;  and  He  would  point  them 
to  a  solace  for  His  absence,  and  to  a  kind  of  substitute 
for  His  presence.  For  to  love  the  brethren  whom  they 
see  would  be,  in  some  sense,  a  continuing  to  love  the 
Christ  whom  they  had  ceased  to  see.     And  so,  immedi- 


"  AS  I  HAVE  LOVED  "  57 

ately  after  He  said :  "  Whither  I  go  ye  cannot  come," 
He  goes  on  to  say  :  "  Love  one  another  as  I  have  loved 
you." 

He  called  this  a  "  new  commandment,"  though  to 
love  one's  neighbour  as  one's  self  was  a  famihar  common- 
place amongst  the  Jews,  and  had  a  recognized  position 
in  Rabbinical  teaching.  But  His  commandment  pro- 
posed a  new  object  of  love,  it  set  forth  a  new  measure  of 
love,  so  greatly  different  from  all  that  had  preceded  it  as 
to  become  almost  a  new  kind  of  love,  and  it  suggested 
and  supplied  a  new  motive  power  for  love.  This  com- 
mandment "  could  give  life  "  and  fulfil  itself.  Therefore 
it  comes  to  us  as  a  "  new  commandment " — even  to  us — 
and,  unlike  the  words  which  preceded  it,  which  we  were 
considering  in  former  sermons,  it  is  wholly  and  freshly 
appUcable  to-day  as  in  the  ages  that  are  passed.  I  ask 
you,  first,  to  consider — 

I. — THE  NEW  SCOPE  OF  THE  NEW  COMMANDMENT. 

"  Love  one  another."  The  newness  of  the  precept  is 
realized,  if  we  think  for  a  moment  of  the  new  pheno- 
menon which  obedience  to  it  produced.  When  the 
words  were  spoken,  the  then-known  civiHzed  Western 
world  was  cleft  by  great,  deep  gulfs  of  separation,  like 
the  crevasses  in  a  glacier,  by  the  side  of  which  our 
racial  animosities  and  class  differences  are  merely 
superficial  cracks  on  the  surface.  Language,  religion, 
national  animosities,  differences  of  condition,  and 
saddest  of  all,  difference  of  sex,  split  the  world  up  into 


58  "  AS  I  HAVE  LOVED  " 

alien  fragments.  A  "  stranger "  and  an  "  enemy " 
were  expressed  in  one  language,  by  the  same  word.  The 
learned  and  the  unlearned,  the  slave  and  his  master, 
the  barbarian  and  the  Greek,  the  man  and  the  woman, 
stood  on  opposite  sides  of  the  gulfs,  flinging  hostility 
across.  A  Jewish  peasant  wandered  up  and  down  for 
three  years  in  His  own  little  country,  which  was  the 
very  focus  of  narrowness  and  separation  and  hostihty, 
as  the  Roman  historian  felt  when  he  called  the  Jews  the 
"  haters  of  the  human  race  "  ;  He  gathered  a  few  dis- 
ciples, and  he  was  crucified  by  a  contemptuous  Roman 
governor,  who  thought  that  the  life  of  one  fanatical  Jew 
was  a  little  price  to  pay  for  popularity  with  his  trouble- 
some subjects,  and  in  a  generation  after,  the  clefts  were 
being  bridged,  and  all  over  the  empire  a  strange  new 
sense  of  unity  was  being  breathed,  and  Barbarian, 
Scythian,  bond  and  free,  male  and  female,  Jew  and 
Greek,  learned  and  ignorant,  clasped  hands  and  sat 
down  at  one  table,  and  felt  themselves  all  one  in  Christ 
Jesus.  They  were  ready  to  break  all  other  bonds,  and 
to  yield  to  the  uniting  forces  that  streamed  out  from 
His  Cross.  There  never  had  been  anything  like  it.  No 
wonder  that  the  world  began  to  babble  about  sorcery, 
and  conspiracies,  and  complicity  in  unnameable  vices. 
It  was  only  that  the  disciples  were  obeying  the  "  new 
commandment,"  and  a  new  thing  had  come  into  the 
world — a  community  held  together  by  love  and  not  by 
geographical  accidents  or  hnguistic  affinities,  or  the  iron 


"  AS  I  HAVE  LOVED  "  59 

fetters  of  the  conqueror.  You  sow  the  seed  in  furrows 
separated  by  ridges,  and  the  ground  is  seamed,  but 
when  the  seed  springs  the  ridges  are  hidden,  no  division 
appears,  and  as  far  as  the  eye  can  reach,  the  cornfield 
stretches,  rippling  in  unbroken  waves  of  gold.  The  new 
conunandment  made  a  new  thing,  and  the  world  won- 
dered. 

Now  then,  brethren,  do  not  let  us  forget  that,  although 
it  is  in  some  respects  a  great  deal  harder  to-day  than 
it  was  then,  to  obey  this  commandment,  the  diverse 
circumstances  in  which  Christian  individuals  and 
Christian  communities  are  this  day  placed  may  modify 
the  form  of  our  obedience,  but  do  not  in  the  smallest 
degree  weaken  the  obligation,  for  the  individual  Christian 
and  for  the  societies  of  Christians,  to  follow  this  com- 
mandment. The  multiplication  of  numbers,  the  cessa- 
tion of  the  armed  hostility  of  the  world,  the  great 
varieties  in  intellectual  position  in  regard  to  the  truths 
of  Christianity,  divergencies  of  culture,  and  many  other 
things,  are  separating  forces.  But  our  Christianity  is 
worth  very  little,  if  it  cannot  master  these  separating 
tendencies,  even  as  in  the  early  days  of  freshness,  the 
Christianity  that  sprang  in  these  new  converts'  minds 
mastered  the  far  more  powerful  separating  tendencies 
with  which  they  had  to  contend. 

Every  Christian  man  is  under  the  obligation  to  recog- 
nize his  kindred  with  every  other  Christian  man — his 
kindred  in  the  deep  foundations  of  his  spiritual  being, 


60  "  AS  I  HAVE  LOVED  " 

which  are  far  deeper,  and  ought  to  be  far  more  operative 
in  drawing  together,  than  the  superficial  differences  of 
culture  or  opinion  or  the  Hke,  which  may  part  us.  The 
bond  that  holds  Christian  men  together  is  their  com- 
mon relation  to  the  one  Lord,  and  that  ought  to  influence 
their  attitude  to  one  another.  You  say  I  am  talking 
commonplaces.  Yes  ;  and  the  condition  of  Christianity 
this  day  is  the  sad  and  tragical  sign  that  the  common- 
places need  to  be  talked  about,  till  they  are  rubbed  into 
the  conscience  of  the  Church  as  they  never  have  been 
before. 

Do  not  let  us  suppose  that  Christian  love  is  mere 
sentiment.  I  shall  have  to  speak  a  word  or  two  about 
that  presently,  but  I  would  fain  lift  the  whole  subject, 
if  I  can,  out  of  the  region  of  mere  unctuous  words,  and 
gush  of  half-feigned  emotion,  which  mean  nothing,  and 
would  make  you  feel  that  it  is  a  very  practical  com- 
mandment, gripping  us  hard,  when  our  Lord  says  to  us, 
"  Love  one  another." 

I  have  spoken  about  the  accidental  conditions  which 
make  obedience  to  this  commandment  difl&cult.  The 
real  reason  which  makes  the  obedience  to  it  difficult  is 
the  slackness  of  our  own  hold  on  the  centre.  In  the 
measure  in  which  we  are  filled  with  Jesus  Christ,  in 
that  measure  will  that  expression  of  His  Spirit  and  His 
hfe  become  natural  to  us.  Every  Christian  has  affinities 
with  every  other  Christian,  in  the  depths  of  his  being,  so 
as  that  he  is  a  great  deal  more  like  his  brother,  who  is 


"  AS  I  HAVE  LOVED  "  61 

possessor  of  "  like  precious  faith,"  however  unhke  the 
two  may  be  in  outlook,  in  idiosyncrasy,  and  culture  and 
in  creed,  than  he  is  to  another  man  with  whom  he  may 
have  a  far  closer  sympathy  in  all  these  matters  than  he 
has  with  the  brother  in  question,  but  from  whom  he  is 
parted  by  this,  that  the  one  trusts  and  loves  and  obeys 
Jesus  Christ,  and  the  other  does  not.  So,  for  individual 
and  for  churches,  the  commandment  takes  this  shape — 
Go  down  to  the  depths  and  you  will  find  that  you  are 
closer  to  the  Christian  man  or  community  which  seems 
furthest  from  you,  than  you  are  to  the  non-Christian 
who  seems  nearest  to  you.  Therefore,  let  your  love 
follow  your  kinship,  and  your  heart  recognize  the  one- 
ness that  knits  you  together.  That  is  a  revolutionary 
commandment ;  what  would  become  of  our  present 
organizations  of  Christianity  if  it  were  obeyed  ?  That 
is  a  revolutionary  commandment ;  what  would  become 
of  our  individual  relations  to  the  whole  family  who,  in 
every  place,  and  in  many  tongues,  and  with  many  creeds, 
call  on  Jesus  as  on  their  Lord — their  Lord  and  ours  ? 
I  leave  you  to  answer  the  question.  Only,  I  say  the 
commandment  has  for  its  first  scope  all  who,  in  every 
place,  love  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ. 

But  there  is  more  than  that  involved  in  it.  The  very 
same  principle  which  makes  this  love  to  one  another 
imperative  upon  all  disciples  makes  it  equally  imperative 
upon  every  follower  of  Jesus  Christ  to  embrace  in  a  real 
afEection  all  whom  Jesus  so  loved  as  to  die  for  them. 


62  "  AS  I  HAVE  LOVED  " 

If  I  am  to  love  a  Christian  man  because  he  and  I  love 
Christ,  I  am  to  love  everybody,  because  Christ  loves 
me  and  everybody,  and  because  He  died  on  the  Cross 
for  me  and  for  all  men.  And  so  one  of  the  other  Apostles, 
or,  at  least,  the  letter  which  goes  by  his  name,  laid  hold 
on  the  true  connexion  when,  instead  of  concentrating 
Christian  affection  on  the  Church,  and  letting  the  world 
go  to  the  devil  as  an  alien  thing,  he  said  :  "  Add  to  your 
faith,"  this,  that,  and  the  other,  and  "  brotherly  kind- 
ness, and  to  brotherly  kindness,  charity."  The  par- 
ticular does  not  exclude  the  general,  it  leads  to  the 
general.  The  fire  kindled  upon  the  hearth  gives  warmth 
to  all  the  chamber.  The  circles  are  concentric,  and  the 
widest  sweep  is  struck  from  the  same  middle  point  as 
the  narrow.  So  the  new  commandment  does  not  cut 
humanity  in  two  halves,  but  gathers  all  diversity  into 
one,  and  spreads  the  great  reconciling  of  Christian  love 
over  all  the  antagonisms  and  oppositions  of  earth.  Let 
me  ask  you  to  notice 

II. — THE  EXAMPLE  OF  THE  NEW  COMMANDMENT,' 

"  As  I  have  loved  you." 

That  solemn  "  as  "  lifts  itself  up  before  us,  shines  far 
ahead  of  us,  ought  to  draw  us  to  itself  in  hope,  and  not  to 
repel  us  from  itself  in  despair.  "  As  I  have  loved  " — 
what  a  tremendous  thing  for  a  man  to  stand  up  before 
his  fellows,  and  say,  "  Take  Me  as  the  perfect  Example 
of  perfect  love  ;  and  let  My  example — undimmed  by  the 
mists  of  gathering  centuries,  and  unweakened  by  the 


"  AS  I  HAVE  LOVED  "  63 

change  of  condition,  and  circumstance,  fresh  as  ever 
after  ages  have  passed,  and  closely-fitting  as  ever  in  all 
varieties  of  human  character  and  condition — stand 
before  you  ;  the  ideal  that  I  have  realized,  and  that  you 
will  be  blessed  in  the  proportion  that  you  seek,  though 
you  fail  to  realize  it !  "  There  is,  I  venture  to  believe, 
only  one  aspect  of  Jesus  Christ  in  which  such  a  setting 
forth  of  Himself  as  the  perfect  Incarnation  of  perfect 
love  is  warrantable  ;  and  that  is  found  in  the  old  belief 
that  His  very  birth  was  the  result  of  His  love,  and  that 
His  death  was  the  climax  of  that  love.  And  if  so,  we 
have  to  turn  to  Bethlehem,  and  the  whole  life,  and  the 
Cross  at  its  end,  as  being  the  Christ-given  example  and 
model  for  our  love  to  our  brethren. 

What  do  we  see  there  ?  I  have  said  that  there  is  too 
much  of  mere  sickly  sentimentality  about  the  ordinary 
treatment  of  this  great  commandment,  and  that  I 
desired  to  lift  it  out  of  that  region  into  a  far  nobler, 
more  strenuous,  and  difficult  one.  This  is  what  we  see 
in  that  Ufe  and  in  that  death  : — First  of  all — the  activity 
of  love — "  Let  us  not  love  in  words,  but  in  deed  and  in 
truth."  Then  we  see  the  self-forgetfulness  of  love — 
"  Even  Christ  pleased  not  Himself."  Then  we  see  the 
self-sacrifice  of  love — "  Greater  love  hath  no  man  than 
this,  that  a  man  lay  down  his  life  for  his  friends."  And 
in  these  three  points,  on  which  I  would  fain  enlarge  if  I 
might,  active  love,  self- oblivious  love,  self-sacrificing 
love,  you  have  the  pattern  set  for  us  all.     Christian 


64  "  AS  I  HAVE  LOVED  " 

love  is  no  mere  sickly  maiden,  full  of  sentimental 
emotions  and  honeyed  words.  She  is  a  strenuous 
virgin,  girt  for  service,  a  heroine  ready  for  dangers, 
and  prepared  to  be  a  martyr  if  it  be  needful.  Love's 
language  is  sacrifice.  "  I  give  Thee  myself,"  is  its 
motto.  And  that  is  the  pattern  that  is  set  before  us 
all — "  as  I  have  loved  you." 

I  have  tried  to  show  you  how  the  commandment  was 
new  in  many  particulars,  and  it  is  for  ever  new  in  this 
particular,  that  it  is  for  ever  before  us,  unattained,  and 
drawing  faithful  hearts  to  itself,  and  ever  opening  out 
into  new  heroisms,  and,  therefore,  blessedness,  of  self- 
sacrifice,  and  ever  leading  us  to  confess  the  differences, 
deep,  tragic,  sinful,  between  us  and  Him  Who — we 
sometimes  think  too  presumptuously — we  venture  to 
say  is  our  Lord  and  Master. 

Did  you  ever  see  in  some  great  picture  gallery  a  copyist 
sitting  in  front  of  a  Raffaelle,  and  comparing  his  poor 
feeble  daub,  all  out  of  drawing,  and  with  little  of  the 
Divine  beauty  that  the  master  had  breathed  over  his 
canvas,  even  if  it  preserved  the  mere  mechanical  out- 
line ?  That  is  what  you  and  I  should  do  with  our  lives  : 
take  them  and  put  them  down  side  by  side  with  the 
original.  We  shall  have  to  do  it  some  day.  Had  we 
better  not  do  it  now,  and  try  to  bring  the  copy  a  little 
nearer  to  the  masterpiece  ;  and  let  that  "  as  I  have 
loved  you  "  shine  before  us  and  draw  us  on  to  unattain- 
able heights  ? 


"AS  I  HAVE  LOVED"  65 

And  now,  lastly,  we  have  here 
III.    The    Motive-power    for    Obedience   to   the 
Commandment. 

And  that  is  as  new  as  all  the  rest.  That  "  as  "  ex- 
presses the  manner  of  the  love,  but  it  also  expresses  the 
motive  and  the  power.  It  might  be  translated  into  the 
equivalent  "  in  the  fashion  in  which,"  or  it  might  be 
translated  into  the  equivalent  "  since — "  "  I  have  loved 
you."  The  original  might  bear  the  rendering,  "  that  ye 
also  ma;/ love  one  another."  That  is  to  say,  what  keeps 
men  from  obeying  this  commandment  is  the  instinctive 
self-regard  which  is  natural  to  us  all.  There  are  muscles 
in  the  body  which  are  so  constructed  that  they  close 
tightly ;  and  the  heart  is  something  like  one  of  these 
sphincter  muscles— it  shuts  by  nature,  especially  if 
there  has  been  anything  put  inside  it  over  which  it  can 
shut  and  keep  it  all  to  itself.  But  there  is  one  thing  that 
dethrones  Self,  and  enthrones  the  angel  Love  in  a  heart, 
and  that  is — that  into  that  heart  there  shall  come  surging 
the  sense  of  the  great  love  wherewith  "  I  have  loved  you." 
That  melts  the  iceberg,  nothing  else  will. 

That  love  of  Christ  to  us,  received  into  our  hearts,  and 
there  producing  an  answering  love  to  Him,  will  make  us, 
in  the  measure  in  which  we  live  in  it  and  let  it  rule  us, 
love  ever}i;hing  and  every  person  that  He  loves.  That 
love  of  Jesus  Christ,  stealing  into  our  hearts  and  there 
sweetening  the  ever-springing  "  issues  of  Hfe,"  will  make 
them  flow  out  in  glad  obedience  to  any  commandment 

M.S.  5 


66  "  AS  I  HAVE  LOVED  " 

of  His.  That  love  of  Jesus  Christ,  received  into  our 
hearts,  and  responded  to  by  our  answering  love,  will 
work,  as  love  always  does,  a  magical  transformation. 
A  great  monastic  teacher  wrote  his  precious  book  about 
"  The  Imitation  of  Christ."  "  Imitation  "  is  a  great 
word.  Transformation  is  a  greater.  "  We  all,"  receiving 
on  the  mirror  of  our  loving  hearts  the  love  of  Jesus 
Christ,  "  are  changed  into  the  same  hkeness."  Thus, 
then,  the  love,  which  is  our  pattern,  is  also  our  motive 
and  our  power  for  obedience,  and  the  more  we  bring 
ourselves  under  its  influences,  the  more  we  shall  love  all 
those  who  are  beloved  by,  and  lovers  of,  Jesus. 

That  is  the  one  foundation  for  a  world  knit  together 
in  the  bonds  of  amity  and  concord.  There  have  been 
attempts  at  brotherhood,  and  the  guillotine  has  ended 
what  was  begun  in  the  name  of  "  fraternity."  Men 
build  towers,  but  there  is  no  cement  between  the  bricks, 
unless  the  love  of  Christ  holds  them  together  ;  and  there- 
fore Babel  after  Babel  comes  down  about  the  ears  of  its 
builders.  But  notwithstanding  all  that  is  dark  to-day, 
and  though  the  war-clouds  are  lowering,  and  the  hearts 
of  men  are  inflamed  with  fierce  passions,  Christ's  com- 
mandment is  Christ's  promise  ;  and  though  the  vision 
tarry,  it  will  surely  come.  So  even  to-day  Christian 
men  ought  to  stand  for  Christ's  peace,  and  for  Christ's 
love.  The  old  commandment  which  we  have  had 
from  the  beginning,  is  the  new  commandment  that 
fits  to-day  as  it  fits  all  the  ages.     It  is  a  dream,  say 


"  AS  I  HAVE  LOVED  "  67 

some.  Yes,  a  dream ;  but  a  morning  dream  which 
comes  true.  Let  us  do  the  little  we  can  to  make  it  true, 
and  to  bring  about  the  day  when  the  flock  of  men  will 
gather  round  the  one  Shepherd,  Who  loved  them  to  the 
death,  and  Who  has  bid  them  and  helped  them,  to  "  love 
one  another  as  " — and  since — "  He  has  loved  them," 


"  Why  Cannot  I   Follow  Thee 

Now" 

Peter  said  unto  Him,  Lord,  why  cannot  I  follow  Thee  now  ?  I 
will  lay  down  my  life  for  Thy  sake.  Jesus  answered  him,  Wilt  thou 
lay  down  thy  life  for  My  sake  ?  Verily,  verily  I  say  unto  thee. 
The  cock  shall  not  crow  till  thou  hast  denied  Me  thrice. — John  xiii. 
37,  38. 

PETER'S  main  characteristics  are  all  in  operation 
here ;  his  eagerness  to  be  in  the  front,  his  habit 
of  blurting  out  his  thoughts  and  feelings,  his  passionate 
love  for  his  Master,  and  withal  his  inability  to  under- 
stand Him,  and  his  self-confident  arrogance.  He  has 
broken  in  upon  Christ's  solemn  words,  entirely  deaf  to 
their  deep  meaning,  but  blindly  and  blunderingly  laying 
hold  of  one  thought  only,  that  Jesus  is  departing,  and 
that  he  is  to  be  left  alone.  So  he  asks  the  question, 
"  Lord  !  Whither  goest  Thou  ?  " — not  so  much  caring 
about  that,  as  meaning  by  his  question — "  tell  me  where, 
and  then  I  will  come  too  ;  "  pledging  himself  to  follow 
faithfully,  as  a  dog  behind  his  master,  wherever  He 
went. 


"  WHY  CAKNOT  I  FOLLOW  THEE  NOW  "     69 

Our  Lord  answered  the  underlying  meaning  of  the 
words,  repeating  with  a  personal  application  what  He 
had  just  before  said  as  a  general  principle — "  Whither 
I  go  thou  canst  not  follow  Me  now,  but  thou  shalt  follow 
Me  afterwards."  Then  followed  this  noteworthy 
dialogue. 

The  whole  significance  of  the  incident  is  preserved  for 
us  in  the  beautiful  legend  which  tells  us  how,  near  the 
city  of  Rome,  on  the  Appian  Way,  as  Peter  was  flying 
for  his  life,  he  met  the  Lord,  and  again  said  to  Him  : 
"  Lord,  whither  goest  Thou  ?  "  The  words  of  the 
question,  as  given  in  the  Vulgate,  are  the  name  of  the 
site  of  the  supposed  interview,  and  of  the  little  church 
which  stands  on  it.  The  Master  answered  :  "  I  go  to 
Rome,  to  be  crucified  again."  The  answer  smote  the 
heart  of  the  Apostle,  and  turned  the  cowardly  fugitive 
into  a  hero ;  and  he  followed  his  Lord,  and  went  gladly 
to  his  death.  For  it  was  that  death  which  had  to  be 
accomplished  before  Peter  was  able  to  follow  his  Lord. 

Now,  as  to  the  words  before  us,  I  think  we  shall  best 
gather  their  significance,  and  lay  it  upon  our  own 
hearts,  if  we  simply  follow  the  windings  of  the  dialogue. 
There  are  three  points  :  the  audacious  question,  the  rash 
vow,  and  the  sad  forecast. 

L    The  Audacious  Question. 

As  Peter's  first  question,  "  Lord,  whither  goest 
Thou  ?  "  meant  not  so  much  what  it  said,  as  "  I  will 
follow  Thee  whithersoever  Thou  goest ;  tell  me,  that  I 


70  "  WHY  CANNOT  I  FOLLOW  THEE  NOW  " 

may ;  "  so  the  second  question,  in  like  manner,  is  really 
not  so  much  a  question,  "  Why  cannot  I  follow  Thee 
now  ?  "  as  the  nearest  possible  approach  to  a  flat  con- 
tradiction of  our  Lord.  Peter  puts  his  words  into  the 
shape  of  an  interrogation  ;  what  he  means  is,"  Yes,  lean 
follow  Thee ;  and  in  proof  thereof,  I  will  lay  down  my  life 
for  Thy  sake."  The  man's  persistence,  the  man's  love 
leading  him  to  lack  of  reverence,  came  out  in  this  (as 
I  have  ventured  to  call  it)  audacious  question.  Its 
underlying  meaning  was  a  refusal  to  believe  the  Master's 
word.  But  yet  there  was  in  it  a  nobility  of  resolution — 
broken  afterwards,  but  never  mind  about  that — to  endure 
anything  rather  than  to  be  separate  from  the  Lord. 
Yet,  though  it  was  noble  in  its  motive,  but  lacking  in 
reverence  in  its  form,  there  was  a  deeper  error  than  that 
in  it.  Peter  did  not  know  what  "  following  "  meant, 
and  he  had  to  be  taught  that  first.  One  of  the  main 
reasons  why  he  could  not  follow  was  because  he  did  not 
understand  what  was  involved.  It  was  something 
more  than  marching  behind  his  Master,  even  to  a  Cross. 
There  was  a  deeper  discipline  and  a  more  strenuous  effort 
needed  than  would  have  availed  for  such  a  kind  of  fol- 
lowing. 

Let  us  look  a  little  onwards  into  his  life.  Recall  that 
scene  on  the  morning  of  the  day  by  the  banks  of  the 
lake,  when  he  waded  through  the  shallow  water,  and 
cast  himself,  dripping,  at  his  Master's  feet,  and,  having 
by  his   threefold   confession   obliterated   his  threefold 


"  WHY  CANNOT  I  FOLLOW  THEE  NOW  "     71 

denial,  was  taken  back  to  his  Lord's  love,  and  received 
the  permission  for  which  he  had  hungered,  and  which  he 
had  been  told,  in  the  Upper  Room  could  not  "  now  "  be 
given : — "  Jesus  said  to  him,  Follow  thou  Me."  What  a 
flood  of  remembrances  must  then  have  rushed  over  the 
penitent  Peter !  how  he  must  have  thought  to  himself, 
"  So  soon,  so  soon  is  the  '  canst  not 'changed  into  a  can  ! 
So  soon  has  the  '  afterwards  '  come  to  be  the  present !  " 

And  long  years  after  that,  when  he  was  an  old  man, 
and  experience  had  taught  him  what  followijig  meant, 
he  shared  his  privilege  with  all  the  dispersed  strangers 
to  whom  he  wrote,  and  said  to  them,  with  a  definite 
reference  to  this  incident,  and  to  the  other  after  the 
resurrection,  "  leaving  us  an  example,  that  we  (not  I 
only,  as  I  used  to  think,  in  my  exuberant  days  of  ignor- 
ance) should  follow  in  His  steps." 

So,  brethren,  this  blundering,  loving,  audacious  ques- 
tion suggests  to  us  that  to  follow  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
supreme  direction  for  all  conduct.  Men  of  all  creeds, 
men  of  no  creed,  admit  that.     The 

Loveliness  of  perfect  deeds. 
Higher  than  all  poetic  thought, 

which  is  set  forth  in  that  life  constitutes  the  living  law 
to  which  all  conduct  is  to  be  conformed,  and  will  be 
noble  in  proportion  as  it  is  conformed. 

There  is  the  great  blessing,  and  solemn  obligation, 
and  lofty  prerogative  of  Christian  morality,  that  for 


72    "  WHY  CANNOT  I  FOLLOW  THEE  NOW  " 

obedience  to  a  precept  it  substitutes  following  a  person, 
and  instead  of  saying  to  men,  "  Be  good,"  it  says  to  them 
"  Be  Christlike."  It  brings  the  conception  of  duty  out 
of  the  region  of  abstractions  into  the  region  of  living 
realities.  For  the  cold  statuesque  ideal  of  perfection  it 
substitutes  a  living  Man,  with  a  heart  to  love,  and  a 
hand  to  help,  us.  Thereby  the  whole  aspect  of  striving 
after  the  right  is  changed ;  for  the  work  is  made  easier, 
and  companionship  comes  in  to  aid  morality,  when  Jesus 
Christ  says  to  us,  "  Be  like  Me  ;  and  then  you  will  be 
good  and  blessed."  Effort  will  be  all  but  as  blessed  as 
attainment,  and  the  sense  of  pressing  hard  after  Him 
will  be  only  less  restful  than  the  consciousness  of  having 
attained.  To  follow  Him  is  bliss,  to  reach  Him  is 
heaven. 

But  in  order  that  this  following  should  be  possible, 
there  must  be  something  done  that  had  not  been  done 
when  Peter  asked,  "  Why  cannot  I  follow  Thee  now  ?  " 
One  reason  why  he  could  not  was,  as  I  said,  because  he 
did  not  know  yet  what  "  following  "  meant,  and  because 
he  was  unfit  yet  for  this  assimilation  of  his  character 
and  of  his  conduct  to  the  likeness  of  his  Lord.  And 
another  reason  was  because  the  Cross  still  lay  before  the 
Lord,  and  until  that  death  of  infinite  love  and  utter 
self-sacrifice  for  others  had  been  accomplished,  the 
pattern  was  not  yet  complete,  nor  the  highest  ideal  of 
human  life  realized  in  life.  Therefore  the  "  following  " 
was  impossible.     Christ  must  die  before  He  has  com- 


"  WHY  CANNOT  I  FOLLOW  THEE  NOW  "     73 

pleted  the  example  that  we  are  to  follow,  and  Christ 
must  die  before  the  impulse  shall  be  given  to  us,  which 
shall  make  us  able  to  tread,  however  falteringly  and  far 
behind,  in  His  footsteps. 

The  essence  of  His  life  and  of  His  death  lies  in  the  two 
tilings,  entire  suppression  of  personal  will  in  obedience 
to  the  will  of  the  Father  ;  and  entire  self-sacrifice  for  the 
sake  of  humanity.  And  however  there  is — and  God 
forbid  that  I  should  ever  forget  in  my  preaching  that 
there  is — a  uniqueness  in  that  sacrifice,  in  that  life,  and 
in  that  death,  which  beggars  all  imitation,  and  needs 
and  tolerates  no  repetition  whilst  the  world  lasts,  still 
along  with  this,  there  is  that  which  is  imitable  in  the 
life  and  imitable  in  the  death  of  the  Master.  To  follow 
Jesus  is  to  live  denying  self  for  God,  and  to  live  sacrific- 
ing self  for  men.  Nothing  less  than  these  are  included 
in  the  solemn  words,  "  leaving  us  " — even  in  the  act 
and  article  of  death  when  He  "  suffered  for  us  " — "  an 
example  that  we  should  follow  His  steps." 

The  word  rendered  example  refers  to  the  head- 
line which  the  writing-master  gives  his  pupils  to  copy, 
line  by  line.  We  all  know  how  clumsy  the  pothooks 
and  hangers  are,  how  blurred  the  page  with  many  a 
blot.  And  yet  there,  at  the  top  of  it,  stands  the  master's 
fair  writing,  and  though  even  the  last  line  on  the  page 
will  be  blotted  and  blurred,  when  we  turn  it  over  and 
begin  on  the  new  leaf,  the  copy  will  be  like  the  original, 
"  and  we  shall  be  like  Him,  for  we  shall  see  Him  as  He 


74     "  WHY  CANNOT  I  FOLLOW  THEE  NOW  " 

is."  "  Thou  shalt  follow  Me  afterwards "  is  a  com- 
mandment ;  blessed  be  God,  it  is  also  a  promise.  For 
let  us  not  forget  that  the  "  following  "  ends  in  an  attain- 
ing ;  even  as  the  Lord  Himself  has  said  in  another  con- 
nexion, when  He  spake  :  "If  any  man  serve  Me,  let 
him  .  .  .  follow  Me,  and  where  I  am,  there  shall  also 
My  servant  be."  Of  course,  if  we  follow,  we  shall  come 
to  the  same  place  one  day.  And  so  the  great  promise 
will  be  fulfilled  :  "  They  shall  follow  the  Lamb,"  in  that 
higher  life,  "  whithersoever  He  goeth ;  "  and  not  as 
here  imperfectly,  and  far  behind,  but  close  beside  Him, 
and  keeping  step  for  step,  being  with  Him  first,  and 
following  Him  afterwards. 

But  let  us  remember  that  with  regard  to  that  future 
following  and  its  completeness,  the  same  present  in- 
capacity applies,  as  clogs  and  mars  the  "  following," 
which  is  conforming  our  lives  to  His.  For,  as  He  Him- 
self has  said  to  us,  "  I  go  to  prepare  a  place  for  you," 
and  until  He  had  passed  through  death  and  into  His 
glory,  there  was  no  standing-ground  for  human  feet  on 
the  golden  pavements,  and  heaven  was  inaccessible  to 
man  until  Christ  had  died.  Thus,  as  aU  life  is  changed 
when  it  is  looked  upon  as  being  a  following  of  Jesus,  so 
death  becomes  altogether  other  when  it  is  so  regarded. 
The  first  martyr  outside  the  city  wall,  bruised  and  bat- 
tered by  the  cruel  stones,  remembered  his  Master's 
death,  and  shaped  his  own  to  be  like  it.  As  Jesus, 
when  He  died,  had  said  :  "  Father,  into  Thy  hands  I 


"  WHY  CANNOT  I  FOLLOW  THEE  NOW  "    75 

commit  My  spirit,"  Stephen,  dying,  said  :  "  Lord  Jesus, 
receive  my  spirit."  As  the  Master  had  given  His  last 
breath  to  the  prayer,  "  Father,  forgive  them  ;  they  know 
not  what  they  do,"  so  Stephen  shaped  his  last  utterance 
to  a  conformity  with  his  Lord's,  in  which  the  difference 
is  as  significant  as  the  likeness,  and  said,  "  Lord,  lay  not 
this  sin  to  their  charge."  And  then,  as  the  record 
beautifully  says,  amidst  all  that  wild  hubbub  and  cruel 
assault,  "  he  fell  on  sleep,"  as  a  child  on  its  mother's 
breast.  Death  is  changed  when  it  becomes  the  follow- 
ing of  Christ. 

II.  We  Have  Here  a  Rash  Vow. 
"  I  will  lay  down  my  life  for  Thy  sake."  What 
a  strange  inversion  of  parts  is  here !  "  Lay  down 
thy  life  for  My  sake  " — with  Calvary  less  than  four- 
and-twenty  hours  off,  when  Christ  laid  down  His 
Ufe  for  Peter's  sake.  Peter  was  guilty  of  an  anachron- 
ism in  the  words,  for  the  time  did  not  come  for  the 
disciple  to  die  for  his  Lord  till  after  the  Lord  had 
died  for  His  disciple.  But  he  was  right  in  feeling, 
though  he  felt  it  only  in  regard  to  an  external  and 
physical  act,  that  to  follow  Jesus,  it  was  necessary  to 
be  ready  to  die  for  Him.  And  that  is  the  great  truth 
which  underlies  and  half  redeems  the  rashness  of  this 
vow,  and  needs  to  be  laid  upon  our  hearts,  if  we  are  ever 
to  be  the  true  followers  of  the  Master.  Death  for 
Christ  is  necessary  if  we  are  to  follow  Him.  There  is 
nothing  that  a  man  can  do  deeply  and  truly,  in  a  manner 


76    "  WHY  CANNOT  I  FOLLOW  THEE  NOW  " 

worthy  of  a  Christian,  which  has  not  underlying  it, 
either  the  death  of  self-will  and  all  the  godless  nature, 
or  if  need  be,  the  actual  physical  death,  which  is  a  much 
smaller  matter.  You  cannot  follow  Christ  except  you 
die  daily.  No  man  has  ever  yet  trodden  in  His  foot- 
steps except  on  condition  of,  moment  by  moment, 
slapng  self,  suppressing  self,  abjuring  self,  breaking 
the  connexion  of  self  with  the  material  world,  and 
yielding  up  himself  as  a  living  sacrifice,  in  a  living  death, 
to  the  Lord  of  Ufe  and  death.  Do  not  think  that  "  fol- 
lowing Christ  "  is  a  mere  sentimental  expression  for  so 
much  morality  as  we  can  conveniently  get  into  our  daily 
life.  But  remember  that  here,  with  all  his  rashness, 
with  all  his  ignorance,  with  all  his  superficiality,  the 
Apostle  has  laid  hold  upon  the  great  permanent,  but 
alas  !  much-forgotten,  principle  that  to  die  is  essential 
to  following  Jesus. 

This  daily  dying,  which  is  a  far  harder  thing  to  do 
than  to  go  to  a  cross  once,  and  have  done  with  it — was 
impossible  for  Peter  then,  though  he  did  not  know  it. 
His  vow  was  a  rash  one,  because  the  laying  down  of 
Christ's  life,  for  Peter's  sake  and  for  ours,  had  not  yet 
been  accomplished.  There  is  the  motive-power  by 
which,  and  by  which  alone,  drawn  in  gratitude,  and 
melted  down  from  all  our  selfishness,  we,  too,  in  our 
measure  and  our  turn,  are  able  to  yield  ourselves,  in 
daily  crucifixion  of  our  evil,  and  daily  abnegation  of 
self-trust,  and  self-pleasing,  and  self-will,  to  the  Lord 


"  WHY  CANNOT  I  FOLLOW  THEE  NOW  "     77 

that  has  died  for  us.  He  must  lay  down  His  Hfe  for 
our  sakes,  and  we  must  know  that  He  has  done  it,  and 
rest  upon  Him  as  our  great  Sacrifice  and  our  atoning 
Priest,  or  else  we  shall  never  be  so  loosed  from  the 
tyranny  of  self  as  to  be  ready  to  live  by  dying,  and  to 
die  that  we  may  live  for  His  sake.  "  I  go  to  Rome  to 
be  crucified  again  "  were  the  words  which  in  the  old 
legend  braced  the  fugitive  and  made  a  hero  of  him, 
and  sent  him  back  to  be  crucified  Hke  his  Lord  and  to 
offer  up  the  physical  life,  as  he  had  long  since  offered 
up  his  self  will  and  his  arrogance,  to  the  Lord  that  had 
died  for  him. 

0  Lord  our  Father,  help  us,  we  beseech  Thee,  that  we 
may  be  of  the  sheep  that  hear  the  Shepherd's  voice  and 
follow  Him.  Strengthen  our  faith  in  that  dear  Lord 
Who  has  laid  down  His  life  for  us,  that  we  may  daily, 
by  self-denial  and  self-sacrifice,  lay  down  our  lives  for 
Him,  and  follow  Him  here,  in  all  the  footsteps  of  His 
love. 


The  Collapse  of  Self-Confidence 

Jesus  answered  him,  Wilt  thou  lay  down  thy  life  for  ATy  sake  ? 
Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee.  The  cock  shall  not  crow,  till  thou 
hast  denied  Me  thrice. — John  xiii.   38. 

IN  the  last  sermon  I  partly  considered  the  dialogue 
of  which  this  is  the  concluding  portion,  and  found 
that  it  consisted  of  an  audacious  question  :  "  Why  cannot 
I  follow  Thee  now  ?  "  which  really  meant  a  contradic- 
tion of  our  Lord  ;  of  a  rash  vow — "  I  will  lay  down  my 
hfe  for  Thy  sake  " — and  of  a  sad  forecast :  "  The  cock 
shall  not  crow  till  thou  has  denied  Me  thrice."  I 
paused  in  the  middle  of  considering  the  second  of  these 
three  stages,  the  rash  vow.  I  then  pointed  out  that, 
however  ignorant  the  Apostle  was  of  what  "  following 
Christ "  meant,  he  had  hit  the  mark,  and  stumbled 
unknowingly  upon  the  very  essence  of  the  Christian 
life,  and  an  eternal  truth,  when  he  recognized  that, 
somehow  or  other,  to  "  follow  Christ "  meant  to  die 
for  Him.  That  is  so,  and  is  so  always,  for  there  is  no 
following  Christ  which  is  not  a  "  dying  daily,"  by  self- 
immolation  and  detachment  from  the  world,  and  the 


THE  COLLAPSE  OF  SELF-CONFIDENCE       79 

life  of  sense  and  self.  But  this  rash  vow  has  to  be 
looked  at  from  a  somewhat  different  point  of  view,  and 
we  have  to  consider,  not  only  the  strangely  blended 
right  and  wrong,  error  and  deep  truth,  that  lie  in  its 
substance,  but  the  strangely  blended  right  and  wrong  in 
the  state  of  feeling  and  thought,  on  the  part  of  the 
Apostle,  which  it  represents.  And  taking  up  the 
dropped  thread,  I  first  deal  with  that,  and  then  with 
the  sad  forecast  which  follows. 

So  then,  looking  at  these  words  as  being  like  all  our 
words,  even  the  best  of  them,  strangely  mingled  of 
right  and  wrong,  good  and  evil,  I  find  in  them, 

I.  A  Noble,  Sincere,  but  Transient  Emotion 
AND  Impulse. 

"  I  will  lay  down  my  life  for  Thy  sake."  He  meant 
it,  every  word  of  it ;  and  he  would  have  done  it  too,  if 
only  a  gibbet  or  cross  could  have  been  set  up  then  and 
there,  in  the  upper  room.  But  unfortunately  the 
moments  of  elevation  and  high  wrought  enthusiasm, 
and  the  calls  to  martyrdom,  do  not  always  coincide. 
In  the  upper  room,  with  its  sacred  atmosphere,  it  was 
easy  to  feel,  and  would  have  been  easy  to  do,  nobly. 
But  it  was  not  so  easy,  lying  drowsily  in  Gethsemane, 
in  the  cold  spring  night,  waiting  for  the  Master's  coming 
out  from  beneath  the  trembling  shadows  of  the  oUve 
trees,  or  huddled  up  by  the  fire  at  the  lower  end  of  the 
hall  in  the  grey  morning,  when  vitality  is  at  its  lowest. 

So  the  sincere,  noble  utterance  was  but  the  expression 


80     THE  COLLAPSE  OF  SELF-CONFIDENCE 

of  impulse  and  emotion  which  Ufted  Peter  for  a  moment, 
and  did  him  good,  but  which  Hkewise,  running  through 
him,  left  him  dry,  and  all  the  weaker  because  of  the 
gush  of  feehng  which  had  foamed  itself  away  in  empty 
words.  For,  let  us  never  forget  that  however  high, 
noble,  divinely  inspired,  emotion  may  be,  in  its  nature 
it  is  transient,  and  is  sure  to  be  followed  by  reaction. 
Like  the  winter  torrents  in  some  parched  land,  the  more 
they  foam,  the  more  speedily  does  the  bed  of  them  dry 
up  again,  and  the  more  they  carry  down  the  very  soil  in 
which  growth  and  fertility  would  be  possible.  A  rush 
of  feeling  is  apt  to  leave  behind  hard,  insensitive  rock. 
There  is  a  close  connexion  between  a  predominantly 
emotional  Christianity  and  a  very  imperfect  life.  Feel- 
ing is  apt  to  be  a  substitute  for  action.  Is  it  not  a  very 
remarkable  thing  that  the  word  "  benevolence,"  which 
means  "  kindly  feehng,"  has  come  to  take  on  the  mean- 
ing rightly  belonging  to  "  beneficence,"  which  means 
"  kindly  doing  ?  "  The  emotional  man  blinds  and 
hoodwinks  himself,  by  thinking  that  his  quick  sensibility 
and  lofty  enthusiasm  and  warmth  of  emotion  are 
action  or  as  good  as  action.  "  Be  thou  warmed  and 
filled,"  he  says  to  his  brother,  and,  in  a  lazy  expansion  of 
heart,  forgets  that  he  has  never  lifted  a  finger  to  help. 
God  forbid  that  I  should  seem  to  deprecate  emotional 
rehgion  or  religious  emotion.  That  is  the  last  thing  that 
needs  to  be  done  in  this  generation.  If  the  Churches 
want  one  thing  more  than  another,  it  is  that  their  Chris- 


THE  COLLAPSE  OF  SELF-CONFIDENCE       81 

tianity  should  become  far  more  emotional  than  it  is,  and 
their  impulses  stronger,  swifter,  more  spontaneous, 
more  over-mastering,  and  that  they  should  be  urged 
by  these,  and  not  merely  by  the  reluctant  recognition 
that  such  and  such  a  piece  of  sacrifice  or  effort  is  a  debt 
that  they  are  obHged  to  clear  off.  Their  service  will 
be  glad  service,  only  when  it  is  impuJsive  service  and 
emotional  service.  Dear  brethren,  a  Christian  man 
whose  Ufe  is  not  influenced  by  the  deepest  and  most 
fervid  emotion  of  love  to  the  great  Love  that  died  for 
him,  is  a  monster.  "  The  Lord's  fire  is  in  Jerusalem, 
and  His  furnace  in  Zion  " — is  that  a  description  of  the 
fervour  of  this  Church,  or  of  any  Church  in  Christen- 
dom ?  A  furnace  ?  An  ice-house  !  Think  of  some  deserted 
cottage,  with  the  roof  fallen  in,  and  in  the  cold  chimney- 
place  a  rusty  grate  with  some  dead  embers  in  it,  and 
the  snow  lying  upon  the  top  of  it — that  is  a  truer 
description  of  a  great  many  of  our  churches  than  "  the 
Lord's  furnace." 

But  the  lesson  to  be  taken  from  this  incident  before 
us  is  not  the  danger  of  emotion  ;  it  is  rather  the  necessity 
of  emotion,  but  with  two  provisos,  that  it  shall  be 
emotion  based  upon  a  clear  recognition  of  the  great 
truth  that  He  has  laid  down  His  life  for  me ;  and  that 
it  shall  be  emotion  harnessed  to  work,  and  not  wasted  in 
words.  The  mightier  the  plunge  of  the  fall,  the  more 
electrical  energy  you  can  get  out  of  it,  and  set  that  to 
work  to  drive  the  wheels  of  hfe.     Do  not  be  afraid  of 

M.S.  6 


82     THE  COLLAPSE  OF  SELF-CONFIDENCE 

emotion ;  you  will  make  little  of  your  Christianity 
unless  you  have  it.  But  be  sure  that  it  is  under  the 
guidance  of  a  clear  perception  of  the  truth  that  evokes 
it,  and  that  it  is  all  used  to  turn  the  wheels  of  life. 
"  Better  is  it  that  thou  shouldest  not  vow,  than  that 
thou  shouldest  vow  and  not  pay."  Better  is  it  that 
emotion  should  be  reticent  and  active  than  that  it 
should  be  voluble  and  idle,  It  is  a  good  servant,  but 
a  bad  master.  A  man  that  trusts  to  impulse  and 
emotion  to  further  his  Christian  course,  is  like  a  ship  in 
that  belt  of  variable  winds  that  lies  near  the  Equator, 
where  there  will  be  a  fine  ten-knot  breeze  for  an  hour 
or  two,  and  then  a  sickly,  stagnating  calm.  Push 
further  south,  and  get  into  the  steady  trades,  where 
the  wind  blows  with  equable  and  persistent  force  all 
the  year  round  in  the  same  direction.  Convert  impulses 
and  emotions  into  steadfast  principle,  warmed  by 
emotion  and  borne  on  by  impulse. 

II.  Again,  this  Rash  Vow  is  an  Illustration  of 
A  Confidence,  also  Strangely  Blended  of  Good 
AND  Evil. 

"  I  will  lay  down  my  life  for  Thy  sake."  As  I  have 
said,  Peter  meant  it.  His  words  are  paralleled  by  other 
words,  in  which  two  of  the  Lord's  disciples  answered 
His  solemn  question  :  "  Are  ye  able  to  drink  of  the  cup 
that  I  drink  of  ?  "  with  the  imhesitating  answer,  "  We 
are  able."  A  great  teacher  has  regarded  that  saying 
as  one  of  "  the  ventures  of  faith."     Perhaps  it  was. 


THE  COLLAPSE  OF  SELF-CONFIDENCE       83 

Perhaps  there  was  as  much  self-confidence  as  faith  in 
it.  Certainly  there  was  more  self-confidence  than 
faith  in  Peter's  answer,  and  his  self-confidence  collapsed 
when  the  trial  came. 

The  world  and  the  Church  hold  entirely  antagonistic 
notions  about  the  value  of  self-reliance.  The  world 
says  that  it  is  a  condition  of  power.  The  Church  says 
that  it  is  the  root  of  weakness.  Self-confidence  shuts 
a  man  out  from  the  help  of  God,  and  so  shuts  him  out 
from  the  source  of  power.  For  if  you  will  think  for  a 
moment,  you  will  see  that  the  faith  which  the  New 
Testament,  in  conformity  with  all  wise  knowledge  of 
one's  own  self,  preaches  as  the  one  secret  of  power,  has 
for  its  obverse — its  other  side — difl&dence  and  self- 
distrust.  No  man  trusts  God  as  God  ought  to  be 
trusted,  who  does  not  distrust  himself  as  himself  ought 
to  be  distrusted.  To  level  a  mountain  is  the  only  way 
to  carry  the  water  across  where  it  stood.  You  can,  by 
mechanism  and  locks,  take  a  canal  up  to  the  top  of  a 
hill,  but  you  cannot  take  a  river  up  to  the  top.  And 
the  river  of  God's  help  flows  through  the  valley  and 
seeks  the  lowest  levels.  Faith  and  self-despair  are  the 
upper  and  the  under  sides  of  the  same  thing,  like  some 
cunningly- woven  cloth,  the  one  side  bearing  a  different 
pattern  from  the  other,  and  yet  made  of  the  same  yarn, 
and  the  same  threads  passing  from  the  upper  to  the  under 
sides.  So  faith  and  self-distrust  are  but  two  names 
for  one  composite  whole. 


84     THE  COLLAPSE  OF  SELF-CONFIDENCE 

I  was  once  shown  an  old  Jewish  coin  which  had 
on  the  one  side  the  words  "  sackcloth  and  ashes,"  and 
on  the  other  side  the  words  "  a  crown  of  gold."  The 
coin  meant  to  contrast  what  Israel  had  been  with  what 
Israel  then  was.  The  crown  had  come  first ;  the  sack- 
cloth and  ashes  last.  But  we  may  use  it  for  illustrating 
this  point,  on  which  I  am  now  dwelling.  Wherever 
and  only  where,  there  are  the  sackcloth  and  ashes  of  self- 
despair  there  will  be  the  crown  of  gold  of  an  answering 
faith.  When  thus,  as  Wesley  has  it,  in  his  great  hymn  : 
"  Confident  in  self-despair,"  we  chng  to  God,  then  we 
can  say :  "  When  I  am  weak  then  am  I  strong," 
"  Behold  !  we  have  no  might,  but  our  eyes  are  upon 
Thee."  If  Peter  had  only  said,  "  By  Thy  help  I  will 
lay  down  my  life  for  Thy  sake,"  his  confidence  would 
have  been  reasonable  and  blessed  self-confidence,  because 
it  was  confidence  in  a  self  inspired  by  Divine  power. 

And  so,  brethren,  whilst  utter  difiidence  is  right  for  us, 
and  is  the  condition  of  all  our  reception  of  energy  ac- 
cording to  our  need,  the  most  absolute  confidence — a 
confidence  which,  to  the  eye  of  the  man  that  measures 
only  visible  things,  will  seem  sheer  insanity — is  sobriety 
for  a  Christian.  The  world  is  perfectly  right  when  it 
says :  "  If  you  believe  you  can  do  a  thing,  you  have 
gone  a  long  way  towards  doing  it."  The  expectation 
of  success  has  often  the  knack  of  fulfilling  itself.  But 
the  world  does  not  know  our  secret,  and  our  secret  is 
that  our  humble  faith  brings  into  the  field  the  reserves 


THE  COLLAPSE  OF  SELF-CONFIDENCE       85 

with  the  Captain  of  our  salvation  at  their  head.  There- 
fore a  self-distrusting  Christian  can  say,  and  say  without 
exaggeration  or  presumption,  "  I  can  do  all  things  in 
Christ,  strengthening  me  from  within." 

The  Church's  ideals  are  possibilities,  when  you  bring 
God  into  the  account,  and  they  look  insanity  when  you 
do  not.  Take,  for  instance.  Missions.  What  an 
absurdity  to  talk  about  a  handful  of  Christian  people— 
for  we  are  only  a  handful  as  compared  with  the  whole 
world— carrying  their  gospel  into  every  corner  of  the 
earth,  and  finding  everywhere  a  response  to  it.  Yes  ; 
it  is  absurd  ;  but,  wise  Mr.  Calculator,  counter  of  heads, 
you  have  forgotten  God  in  your  estimate  of  whether  it  is 
reasonable  or  unreasonable.  Again,  take  the  Christian 
ideal  of  absolute  perfection  of  character.  "  What 
nonsense  to  talk  as  if  any  man  could  ever  come  to  that." 
Yes !— as  if  any  inan  could  come  to  that,  I  grant  you. 
But  if  God  is  with  him,  the  nonsense  is  to  suppose  that 
he  will  not  come  to  it.  Here  is  a  row  of  cyphers  as  long 
as  your  arm.  They  mean  nothing.  Put  a  1  at  the 
left-hand  end  of  the  row  ;  and  what  does  it  mean  then  ? 
So  the  faith  that  brings  Christ  into  the  life,  and  into  the 
Church,  makes  "  nobodies"  into  mighty  men— "  laughs 
at  impossibilities,  and  cries.  It  shall  be  done." 

Still  further,  here,  in  this  rash  vow,  we  have  an  under- 
estimate of  difficulties.  There  was  another  incident 
in  the  life  of  the  Apostle,  a  strange  replica  of  this  one, 
into  which  he  pushed   himself,  just  as  he  did  into  the 


86      THE  COLLAPSE  OF  SELF-CONFIDENCE 

high  priest's  hall,  partly  out  of  curiosity  and  a  wish  to 
be  prominent ;  partly  out  of  love  to  his  Master,  With- 
out a  moment's  consideration  of  the  peril  into  which 
he  was  thrusting  himself,  he  sat  in  the  boat,  and  said, 
"  Bid  me  come  to  Thee  on  the  water."  He  forgot  that 
He  was  heavy,  and  that  water  was  not  solid,  and  that 
the  wind  was  high,  and  the  lake  rough,  and  when  he 
put  his  foot  over  the  side,  and  felt  the  cold  waves  creep- 
ing up  his  knees,  his  courage  ebbed  out  with  his  faith, 
and  he  began  to  sink.  Then  he  cried,  "  Lord  !  help 
me !  "  If  he  had  thought  for  a  moment  of  the  reality 
of  the  case,  he  would  have  sat  still  in  the  boat.  If  he 
had  thought  of  what  would  be  in  his  way  in  following 
Jesus  to  death,  he  would  have  hesitated  to  vow.  But 
it  is  so  much  easier  to  resolve  heroisms  in  a  quiet  corner 
than  to  do  them  when  the  strain  comes.  And  it  is  so 
much  easier  to  do  some  one  great  thing  that  has  in  it 
enthusiasm  and  nobility,  and  conspicuousness  of  sacri- 
fice, especially  if  it  can  be  got  over  in  a  moment,  like 
having  one's  head  off  with  an  axe,  than  it  is  to 
"  die  daily."  Ah,  brethren,  it  is  the  little  difficulties 
that  make  the  difficulty.  You  read  in  the  newspapers 
in  the  autumn  every  now  and  then,  of  trains,  in  that 
wonderful  country  across  the  water,  being  stopped  by 
caterpillars.  The  Christian  train  is  stopped  by  an 
army  of  caterpillars,  far  oftener  than  it  is  by  some 
solid  and  towering  barrier.  Our  Christian  lives  are  a 
great  deal  likelier  to  come  to  failure,  because  we  do  not 


THE  COLLAPSE  OF  SELF-CONFIDENCE       87 

take  into  account  the  multiplied  small  antagonisms 
than  because  we  are  not  ready  to  face  the  greater  ones. 
What  could  you  think  of  a  bridge  builder,  who  built 
a  bridge  across  some  mountain  torrent  and  made  no 
allowance  for  freshets  and  floods  when  the  ice  melted  ? 
His  bridge  and  his  piers  would  be  gone  the  first  winter. 
You  remember  who  it  was  that  said  that  he  went  into 
the  Franco-German  War  "  with  a  light  heart,"  and  in 
seven  weeks  came  Sedan  and  the  dethronement  of  an 
emperor,  and  the  surrender  of  an  army.  "  Blessed  is 
he  that  feareth  always."  There  is  no  more  fatal  error 
than  an  under-estimate  of  our  difficulties. 

in.  Let  Me  Say  a  Word  about  the  Sad  Fore- 
cast Here. 

"  Thou  shalt  deny  me  thrice." 

We  cannot  say  that  poor  Peter's  fall  was  at  all  an 
anomalous  or  uncommon  thing.  He  did  exactly  what 
a  great  many  of  us  are  doing.  He  could — and  I 
have  no  doubt  he  would — have  gone  to  the  death  for 
Jesus  Christ ;  but  he  could  not  stand  being  laughed  at 
for  Him.  He  would  have  been  ready  to  meet  the  exe- 
cutioner's sharp  sword,  but  the  servant-girl's  sharp 
tongue  was  more  than  he  could  bear.  And  so  he  denied 
Jesus,  not  because  he  was  afraid  of  his  skin — for  I  do  not 
suppose  that  the  servants  had  any  notion  of  doing  any- 
thing more  than  amusing  themselves  with  a  few  clumsy 
gibes  at  his  expense — but  because  he  could  not  bear  to 
be  made  game  of. 


88     THE  COLLAPSE  OF  SELF-CONFIDENCE 

Now,  dear  brethren,  I  suppose  we  are  all  of  us  more 
or  less  movers  in  circles  in  which  it  sometimes  is  not 
considered  "  good  form  "  to  show  that  we  are  Christian 
people.  You  young  men  in  your  warehouses,  you 
students  at  Owen's,  where  it  is  a  sign  of  being  "  fossils," 
and  "  behind  the  times,"  and  "  not  up  to  date,"  to  say 
"  I  am  a  Christian,"  and  all  of  us  in  our  several  places 
have  sometimes  to  gather  our  courage  together,  and  not 
be  afraid  to  declare  whose  we  are.  No  doubt  life  is  a 
better  witness  than  words,  but  no  doubt  also  Kfe  is  not 
so  good  a  witness  as  it  might  be,  unless  it  sometimes  has 
the  commentary  of  words  as  well.  Thus,  to  confess 
Christ  means  two  things ;  to  say  sometimes — in  the 
face  of  a  smile  of  scorn,  which  is  often  harder  to  bear 
than  something  much  more  dangerous — "  I  am  His," 
and  to  live  Christ,  and  to  say  by  conduct  "  I  am  His." 
"  Whosoever  shall  confess  Me  before  men,  him  will  I 
also  confess  before  My  Father,  and  whosoever  shall  deny 
Me,  him  will  I  also  deny."  Do  not  button  your  coats 
over  your  imiform.  Do  not  take  the  cockade  out  of 
your  hats  when  you  go  amongst  "  the  other  side." 
Live  Jesus,  and,  when  advisable,  preach  Jesus. 

But  Peter's  fall,  which  is  typical  of  what  we  are  all 
tempted  to  do,  has  in  it  a  gracious  message  ;  for  it  pro- 
claims the  possibility  of  recovery  from  any  depth  of 
descent,  and  of  coming  back  again  from  any  distance  of 
wandering.  Did  you  ever  notice  how  Peter's  fall  was 
burnt  in  upon  his  memory,  so  as  that  when  he  began  to 


THE  COLLAPSE  OF  SELF-CONFIDENCE       89 

preach  after  Pentecost,  the  shape  that  his  indictment 
of  his  hearers  takes  is,  "  Ye  denied  the  Holy  One  and  the 
Just,"  and  how,  long  after — if  the  second  Epistle  which 
goes  by  his  name  is  his — in  summing-up  the  crimes 
of  the  heretics  whom  he  is  branding,  he  speaks  of  their 
"  denying  the  Lord  that  bought  them."  He  never  forgot 
his  denial,  and  it  remained  with  him  as  the  expression 
for  all  that  was  wrong  in  a  man's  relation  to  Jesus  Christ. 
And  I  suppose  not  only  was  it  burnt  in  upon  his  memory, 
but  it  burnt  out  all  his  self-confidence.  It  is  beautiful 
to  see  how,  in  his  letter,  he  speaks  over  and  over  again, 
of  "  fear  '"  as  being  a  wise  temper  of  mind  for  a  Christian. 
As  George  Herbert  has  it,  "  A  sad,  wise  valour  is  the  true 
complexion."  Thus  the  man  that  had  been  so  confident 
in  himself  learnt  to  say  "  Be  ready  to  give  to  every 
man  that  asketh  you  a  reason  for  the  hope  that  is  in 
you,  with  meekness  and  fear." 

And  do  you  not  think  that  his  fall  drew  him  closer 
to  Jesus  Christ  than  ever  he  had  been  before,  as  he  learnt 
more  of  His  pardoning  love  and  mercy  ?  Was  he  not 
nearer  the  Lord  on  that  morning  when  the  two  together, 
alone,  talked  after  the  Resurrection  ?  Was  he  not 
nearer  Him  when  he  struggled  to  his  feet  from  the  boat 
on  the  Lake,  on  that  morning  when  he  was  received 
back  into  his  office  as  Christ's  Apostle  ?  Did  he  ever 
forget  how  he  had  sinned  ?  Did  he  ever  for- 
get how  Christ  had  pardoned  ?  Did  he  ever  forget 
how  Christ  loved  and  would  keep  him  ?     Ah,  no  !     The 


90    THE  COLLAPSE  OF  SELF-CONFIDENCE 

rope  that  is  broken  is  strongest  where  it  is  spliced,  not 
because  it  was  broken,  but  because  a  cunning  hand  has 
strengthened  it.  We  may  be  the  stronger  for  our  sins, 
not  because  sin  strengthens,  for  it  weakens,  but  because 
God  restores.  It  is  possible  that  we  may  build  a  fairer 
structure  on  the  ruins  of  our  old  selves.  It  is  possible 
that  we  may  turn  every  field  of  defeat  into  a  field  of 
victory.     It  is  possible  that  we  may 

"Fall  to  rise;  be  beaten,  to  fight  better." 

If  only  we  cling  to  the  Lord  our  Strength,  the  promise 
shall  be  ours — whatever  our  failures,  denials,  back- 
slidings,  inconsistencies — "  though  he  fall  he  shall  not  be 
utterly  cast  down,  for  the  Lord  upholdeth  him  with 
His  hand." 


The   Devout   Life   Here    and   Here- 
after. 

I  have  set  the  Lord  always  before  me  ;  because  He  is  at  my  right 
hand,  I  shall  not  be  moved  ...  In  Thy  presence  is  fulness  of  joy  ; 
at  Thy  right  hand  there  are  pleasures  foi  evermore. — Ps.  xvi.  8,  11. 

I  HAVE  put  these  two  verses  together  because  they 
present  striking  parallels  in  expression,  and  a  close 
connexion  of  thought.  As  to  the  parallel  expressions, 
notice  "  before  me  "  in  the  one  verse,  and  "  in  Thy 
presence  "  in  the  other.  The  two  phrases,  though  not 
identical,  are  synonymous.  There  follow  another  pair 
of  parallels,  "  my  right  hand  "  in  the  former  clause 
answering  to  "  Thy  right  hand  "  in  the  latter.  Then 
as  to  the  connexion  of  thought,  the  former  verse  describes 
the  devout  life  as  it  is  lived  here  on  earth,  the  latter  is 
most  naturally  and  adequately  understood  as  pointing 
to  the  devout  life  as  it  is  perfected  in  heaven.  It  is, 
perhaps,  the  clearest  expression  of  confidence  in  im- 
mortality to  be  found  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  it  is 
instructive  to  notice  the  way  by  which  the  Psalmist 
comes  to  that  confidence.     Mv  two  texts  are  linked 


92  THE  DEVOUT  LIFE 

together  by  two  intervening  verses,  which  begin  with  a 
"  therefore."  "  I  shall  not  be  moved  ;  therefore  " — 
because  of  my  present  experience  of  the  Divine  pre- 
sence, and  the  stability  which  it  brings — "  therefore 
my  heart  is  glad,  and  .  ,  .  my  flesh  also  shall  rest  in 
hope  that  Thou  wilt  not  leave  my  soul  in  Sheol ; 
neither  wilt  Thou  suffer  Thine  Holy  One  to  see  corrup- 
tion." That  is  to  say,  the  Christian  experience  of  com- 
munion on  earth  necessarily  leads  on  to  the  expectation 
of  its  own  persistence,  and  makes  it  ridiculous  to  suppose 
that  such  a  purely  physical  thing  as  death  should  have 
any  power  over  such  a  bond.  You  might  as  well  sup- 
pose that  a  sword  could  wound  a  soul. 

But  that  is  not  all  that  the  connexion  of  these  two 
verses  suggests.  It  implies  the  correspondence  of  these 
two  phases  of  the  devout  life.  Not  only  is  the  one 
the  ground  for  believing  in  the  other,  but  the  one  is  the 
germ  of  the  other. 

For  the  Christian  life  on  earth  and  in  heaven  is  con- 
tinuous, and  that  which  is  but  tendency  and  thwarted 
aim  and  unreached  direction  here  will  become  fact  here- 
after. "  To-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day,  and  much 
more  abundant."  Continuity  and  increase  lie  at  the 
basis  of  the  Christian  hope.  And  if  ever  we  are  to  have 
present  confidence  of  immortality,  or  ever  to  possess 
the  reality  of  it  in  a  future  life,  it  must  be  because  we 
here  have  set  the  Lord  always  before  us.  If  we  are  ever 
to  be  set  at  His  right  hand  in  the  heavenly  places,  it  will 


HERE  AND  HEREAFTER  93 

be  as  the  natural  ciiliniiiation  and  termination  of  our 
having  set  Him  at  our  right  hands  amidst  the  struggles 
and  strifes  of  earth.  Let  us,  then,  look  at  these  two 
points,  the  devout  life  as  it  is  lived  here,  and  the  devout 
Ufe  as  it  is  perfected  hereafter. 

I.  The  Devout  Life  as  it  is  Lived  Here. 

There  are  three  stages  of  experience  marked  out  in  the 
first  of  our  texts.  "  I  have  set  the  Lord  always  before 
me  " — that  is  one  ;  "  He  is  at  ray  right  hand  " — that  is 
another ;  "  I  shall  not  be  moved  " — that  is  the  third, 
the  issue  of  all.  Or,  to  put  it  into  other  language,  we 
have  here  the  effort  of  faith,  the  presence  of  God  whom 
the  effort  brings  near ;  the  steadfastness  that  the  pre- 
sence of  God  bestows. 

As  to  the  first,  "  I  have  set  the  Lord  always  before 
me  " — with  a  dead  lift  of  effort  on  my  part.  We  cannot 
have  God  constantly  in  sight  unless  we  blind  our  eyes 
to  a  great  deal  besides.  There  are — need  I  remind  you  ? 
— three  things  that,  taken  together,  build  up  for  us  a 
very  thick,  triple  wall  between  us  and  God.  There  is 
sense,  and  all  that  it  reveals  to  us ;  there  are  duties, 
necessary,  possibly  blessed,  but  actually  often  dis- 
turbing and  limiting  ;  and  thickest  and  most  opaque  of 
the  three  screens,  there  are  the  sins  which  dim  our 
capacity,  and  check  our  inclination,  of  realizing  the 
Divine  Presence.  So  we  need  to  set  our  teeth  in  the 
determination  that,  notwithstanding  all  the  distract- 
tions  of  our  daily  work,  and  notwithstanding  all  the 


94  THE  DEVOUT   LIFE 

clamant  appeals  of  sense  and  the  things  of  sense,  and 
notwithstanding  the  recoil  from  God  which  the  con- 
sciousness of  disobedience  and  alienation  through  sin 
makes,  so  that  we  do  not  like  to  retain  Him  in  our  know- 
ledge, we  will  "  set  the  Lord  always  before  us," 

That  needs  that  we  shall  shut  out  a  great  deal  besides, 
as  a  man  that  tries  to  see  something  on  the  horizon  will 
hold  his  palm  above  his  eyes  to  exclude  nearer  objects 
and  the  glare  that  dazzles.  It  needs  that  we  shall 
resolutely  concentrate  our  thoughts  upon  Him.  We 
have  to  be  ignorant  of  much  if  we  would  know  any  of 
the  sciences,  or  of  the  practical  arts,  and  we  have  to 
shear  off  not  less  if  we  would  know  the  best  knowledge, 
and  be  experts  in  the  highest  art  of  life.  As  the  old 
mystics  used  to  say,  when  Saul  on  the  road  to  Damascus 
saw  nothing,  he  saw  Christ,  and  you  and  I,  brethren, 
must  learn  to  turn  away  our  eyes  from  seeing  vanity, 
if  we  are  ever  to  see  the  one  solid  and  permanent  reality, 
which  is  God. 

There  must  be,  too,  a  resolute  effort  to  still  our  hearts. 
It  is  not  when  the  sm-face  is  agitated  by  winds  of  passion, 
or  stirred  by  violent  emotions,  or  ruffled  by  a  multi- 
tude of  tiny  catspaws  of  distractions,  that  the  sun  is 
mirrored  in  it  by  day  or  the  stars  by  night.  The  lake 
must  be  still  that  reflects  the  blue.  It  is  the  quiet 
heart  that  sees  God,  and  is  further  quieted  by  the  vision. 

There  must  also  be  resolute  effort  to  cast  out  the  sins 
and  transgressions  that  draw  a  veil  over  our  eyes,  and 


HERE   AND   HEREAFTER  95 

bribe  us  to  forget  God  and  ignore  Him.  "  Blessed  are 
the  pure  in  heart ;  they  shall  see  God."  The  tarnished 
steel  mirror,  or  the  glass  one  with  many  a  flaw  in  its 
surface,  where  the  quicksilver  has  been  triturated  off 
by  the  rubbing  of  sin,  will  give  but  a  broken  image. 

For  all  these  ends,  the  suppression  of  sin,  the  quieting 
of  heart,  the  victory  over  sense,  we  need  that  there 
shall  be  a  very  continuous,  a  very  resolute,  a  very  self- 
mastering  effort,  or  we  shall  never  have  God  before  us. 
"  I  loiU  walk  before  the  Lord  in  the  land  of  the  living  " 
is  a  resolution  not  to  be  kept  without  much  struggle 
with  our  weaker  selves. 

Then  comes  the  second  stage  God  is  brought  near 
by  this  effort.  "  I  have  set  the  Lord  always  before  me. 
He  is  at  my  right  hand."  Now,  of  course,  in  Him  "  we 
live  and  move  and  have  our  being,"  and  "  He  is  not 
far  from  every  one  of  us."  But  the  fact  that  we  all  have 
God  nearer  to  us  than  we  are  to  ourselves,  and  that  it 
is  impossible  for  any  creature  to  get  away  from  Him, 
remaining  as  it  does,  certain,  our  relation  to  that  fact 
varies  according  to  our  reahzation  of  it.  If  a  man  has 
not  Him  in  all  his  thoughts,  it  is  the  same  to  that  man, 
in  regard  to  the  most  important  parts  of  his  being,  as  if 
infinite  distance  were  between  him  and  God.  There 
may  as  well  be  no  God,  as  far  as  a  great  many  of  us  are 
concerned,  in  the  most  important  matters  of  our  lives, 
as  a  God  that  we  never  think  about.  He  is  not  far  from 
"  every  one  of  us  "  ;  but  we  may  be  very  far  from  Him, 


96  THE   DEVOUT  LIFE 

and  we  are  very  far  from  Him  unless,  by  the  effort  of 
which  I  have  been  speaking,  we  set  Him  before  us. 

And  what  does  His  being  at  "  my  right  hand  "  mean — 
which  being  at  my  right  hand  is  only  possible  on  con- 
dition of  our  having  honestly,  and  as  far  as  human 
weakness  will  allow,  continuously,  sought  to  set  Him 
before  us  ?  What  do  you  mean  when  you  speak  of 
some  one  being  your  right  hand  man  ?  You  mean  a 
companion,  an  ally,  a  friend  on  whom  you  can  absolutely 
trust,  to  whom  you  can  turn  in  every  difficulty,  to  whom 
you  can  commit  all  your  most  important  interests  and 
affairs,  quite  sure  that  they  will  be  looked  after  success- 
fully. God  is  your  right  hand  Man,  if  I  may  so  say,  on 
condition  of  your  having  set  Him  always  before  you 
There  will  be  intimacy,  close  companionship,  communi- 
cation of  strength,  favour.  He  is  "  at  my  right  hand," 
and  what  that  means  may  best  perhaps  be  put,  in  the 
words  of  another  psalmist  and  of  a  prophet :  "  The 
Lord  is  thy  shade,  at  thy  right  hand  :  He  will  keep 
thee  from  henceforth,  even  for  evermore,"  or,  as  the 
prophet  has  it :  "I  have  holden  thy  right  hand,  saying 
unto  thee.  Fear  not,  I  will  help  thee." 

And  so  we  come  to  the  last  of  the  three  stages  in  this 
first  part  of  my  text,  and  that  is,  the  strength  that  the 
presence  of  God  brings  with  it.  The  Lord  is  at  "  my 
right  hand,  I  shall  not  be  moved." 

The  consequence  seems  a  very  modest  one  to  draw 
from  so  great  a  premise.     The  effect  is  but  little,  as 


HERE  AND  HEREAFTER  97 

compared  with  the  cause.  Is  all  that  we  could  hope  for 
from  a  present  God  that  we  shall  be  able  to  stand  stead- 
fast ?  No — not  all.  But  life  chastens  expectations, 
and  any  man  who  knows  his  own  inward  instability  and 
the  strong  forces  that  are  brought  against  him,  will  feel 
that  it  is  not  so  small  a  hope  when  he  dares  to  say  : 
"  I  shall  not  be  moved."  It  is  far  beyond  what  any 
other  fact  than  the  fact  of  God's  presence  with  us  can 
warrant  our  cherishing.  The  presumptuous  man  in  one 
of  the  psalms  speaks  thus :  "  In  my  prosperity  I  said, 
I  shall  not  be  moved."  But  when  prosperity  fled,  self- 
confidence  fled  with  it,  and  at  length  he  learnt  to  say,  as 
he  goes  on  to  tell  us :  "  by  Thy  favour  Thou  hast  made 
my  mountain  to  stand  strong.  Thou  didst  hide  Thy 
face,  and  I  was  troubled."  Ah  !  brethren,  think  of  the 
instability  of  our  resolutions,  think  of  the  fluctuations 
of  our  thoughts,  think  of  the  surges  of  our  emotions, 
think  of  the  changes  that  by  subtle  degrees  pass  over  us 
all,  so  as  that  the  old  man's  grey  hair  and  bowed  form 
is  less  unlike  to  his  childish  buoyancy  and  clustering 
ringlets,  than  are  his  senile  thoughts  and  memories 
to  his  juvenile  expectations.  Think  of  the  forces  that 
are  brought  to  bear  upon  us,  the  shocks  of  calamity 
and  sorrow  by  which  we  are  beaten  and  battered,  the 
blasts  of  temptation  by  which  we  are  sometimes  all  but 
overthrown,  the  floods  that  come  and  beat  upon  our 
house.  If  we  realize  all  these,  even  imperfectly,  we 
shall  feel  that  it  is  a  foolish  thing  for  a  man  to  say : 
M.S.  7 


98  THE    DEVOUT    LIFE 

Call  forth  thy  powers,  my  soul,  and  dare 
The  tumult  of  unequal  war:" 

and  that  there  must  be  a  holdfast  outside  myself  fixed 
into  something  stable,  to  which  I  can  hook  my  poor 
cable.  If  ever  I  am  to  stand  fast  it  must  be  because, 
like  a  lame  man,  though  I  have  not  feet  that  can  plant 
themselves  firmly,  I  have  a  pair  of  hands  that  can,  and 
do,  grasp  the  hand  that  upholds  me.  When  Thou 
boldest  me  up  by  the  right  hand  of  Thy  righteousness, 
I  shall  be  steadfast. 

That  steadfastness  will  come  to  us  by  the  actual 
communication  of  strength,  and  it  will  come  to  us  be- 
cause, in  the  consciousness  of  the  Divine  Presence 
there  lies  a  charm  that  takes  the  glamour  out  of  tempta- 
tion and  the  pain  out  of  wounds.  He  being  with  us, 
the  dazzling,  treacherous  brilliancies  of  earth  cease  to 
dazzle  and  betray.  He  being  with  us,  sorrow  itself 
and  pain,  and  all  the  ills  that  flesh  is  heir  to,  have  httle 
power  to  shake  the  soul. 

So,  brethren,  learn  the  secret  of  permanence  amidst  a 
world  of  change  and  temptation.  "  Stand  fast  in  the 
Lord,  dearly  beloved  ;  "  and  if  you  would  have  your  house 
so  firm  that  when  the  rain  descends  and  the  winds 
blow  against  it,  it  may  stand  foursquare  and  not  even 
trembling,  see  to  it  that  it  is  founded  on  the  Rock  ;  and 
take  for  your  own  the  vow  of  the  psalmist,  "  I  have  set 
the  Lord  always  before  me."  Then  you  will  have  for 
your  own  the  blessed  consciousness  that  "  the  Lord  is 


HERE  AND  HEREAFTER  99 

at  my  right  hand,"  and  the  blessed  experience  that 
followed  in  his  case,  "  I  shall  not  be  moved." 

And  now  let  me  turn  more  briefly  to  the  second  of 
our  two  texts,  which  shows  us — 

II.  The  Devout  Life,  as  it  is  Perfected  in 
Heaven. 

If  we  set  the  Lord  in  our  presence  here.  He  will  set 
us  in  His  hereafter.  "  In  Thy  presence  "  in  my  text 
is  literally  "  with  Thy  face,"  and  the  thought  is  sug- 
gested, about  which  it  does  not  become  us  to  speak 
much,  that  the  Christian  hope  of  immortality  embraces 
both  a  clearer  vision  of  God's  face,  and  a  closer  proxi- 
mity to  His  right  hand. 

As  to  the  former,  I  venture  but  a  word — "  Through  a 
glass  darkly,  then  face  to  face."  There  may  be,  there 
must  be,  fresh,  unspeakable  manifestations  of  the 
Divine  character.  There  may  be,  there  must  be,  fresh 
and  at  present  inconceivable  new  powers  of  apprehension. 
Because  when  close  to  the  sun,  it  shows  broader  and 
brighter  than  when  seen  from  the  boundaries  of  the  solar 
system,  and  because  in  the  new  house,  not  made  with 
hands,  there  will  be  probably  wide  windows  where 
now  there  are  solid  walls  or  loopholes  for  arrows, 
"  His  servants  shall  see  His  face  "  then  as  they  do  not 
now.  The  sight  of  God's  face  is  associated  with  being 
at  God's  right  hand.  Here  we  set  Him  at  ours  for 
defence,  companionship,  strength.  There  He  sets  us 
at  His,  for  intimacy  and  proximity  of  presence  and 


100  THE   DEVOUT  LIFE 

fellowship,  for  favour  and  dignity,  as  they  who  are 
honoured  by  a  prince  are  set  at  his  right  hand,  in 
token  of  approval,  or  as  the  sheep  in  the  Judgment  are 
at  the  right,  and  the  goats  at  the  left.  Christian  men 
are  God's  Benjamins — sons  of  the  right  hand.  And  all 
of  favour  and  dignity,  and  closeness  of  companionship, 
which  the  emblem  suggests,  is  but  a  shadow  and  faint 
hint  of  the  realities  of  the  Heavens. 

The  issue  of  that  clearer  vision  and  place  at  the  right 
hand  of  the  Majesty  of  the  heavens  is  not,  as  it  needed 
to  be  here  amidst  the  struggles  and  changes  of  Ufe, 
stability  mainly,  but,  as  it  is  in  some  measure  even  here, 
and  will  be  perfectly  hereafter — joy  that  is  full  and 
perpetual.  There  is  no  more  need  for  an  Ally,  for  there 
are  no  more  enemies.  There  is  no  more  need  for 
strength  to  overcome,  for  there  is  no  battle.  There  is 
no  more  need  for  shield  and  helmet,  for  there  are  no 
swords  to  be  flashed  or  arrows  to  be  shot  against  us ; 
but  there  is  the  need  for  the  festal  robe  and  the  triumphal 
palm. 

That  presence  which  amidst  warfare,  weakness  and 
mutability,  manifested  itself  in  its  gift  of  steadfast- 
ness, will  then,  amidst  the  tranquillity  of  Heaven, 
manifest  itself  in  a  joy  unlike  all  earthly  joy  in  that 
it  is  full,  and  yet  more  unlike  all  earthly  joy  in  that  it 
is  perpetual.  Here  there  is  ever  something  lacking  in 
all  our  gladness,  some  guest  at  the  table  that  sulks  and 
will  not  partake  and  rejoice,  some  unlit  window  in  the 


HERE  AND  HEREAFTER  101 

illumination,  some  limitation  in  the  gladness;  yonder 
joy  will  be  full.  "  I  shall  be  satisfied  when  I  awake 
in  Thy  likeness,"— here,  thank  God  !  we  have  brooks 
by  the  way ;  there  we  shall  stoop  down  and  drink  from 
the  fountain,  the  ocean  of  joy.  And  the  gladness  is 
perpetual,  in  that,  having  nothing  to  do  with  physical 
causes  or  externals,  there  is  no  curse  of  change  and  no 
certainty  of  reaction.  Those  flowers  are  unfading,  and 
those  joys  succeed  one  another  in  exhaustless  profusion, 
ever  following  on  each  other  like  the  run  of  the  ripples 
in  the  tide  of  some  sunlit  sea.  A  poet  once  said — and 
he  knew  it  only  too  well — 

"  Pleasures  are  like  poppies  spread. 

You   grasp   the   flower,    the   bloom   is  shed  ; 
Or  like  the  snowflake  on  the  river, 
A  moment  white,  then  gone  for  ever." 

All  joy  here  is  imperfect  and  transient.  "  Even  in 
laughter  the  heart  is  sorrowful,  and  the  end  of  that  mirth 
is  heaviness."  But  if  we  will  set  the  Lord  before  our 
faces  here,  He  will  set  us  before  His  face  there.  If  we 
have  Him  at  our  right  hands  here.  He  will  put  us  at  His 
right  hand  there.  If  we  have  His  presence  ministering 
to  us  strength  amidst  earth's  changes  and  struggles, 
His  presence  \vill  minister  to  us  joy,  full  and  perpetual, 
amid  the  completeness  and  tranquillities  of  the  Heavens. 
The  ladder  is  on  earth,  its  top  is  hard  by  the  Throne. 
The  Christian  experience  more  than  repeats  the 
psalmist's  here,  and  the  Christian's  brighter  hopes  are 


102  THE  DEVOUT  LIFE 

at  once  certified  and  surpassed  by  Christ,  when  He 
says :  "  I  will  come  again  and  receive  you  to  myself, 
that  where  I  am  " — at  the  right  hand  of  God — "  there 
ye  may  be  also."  "  These  things  have  I  spoken  unto 
you  that  My  joy  may  remain  in  you,  and  that  your  joy 
may  be  full." 


Righteousness   First,   Peace   Second 

First  being  by  interpretation  King  of  Righteoasness.  and  after  that 
also  King  of  Salem,  which  is  King  of  Peace.— Heb.  vii.  2. 

THAT  mysterious,  shadowy  figure  of  the  priest- 
king  Melchizedec  has  been  singularly  illuminated 
and  soHdified  by  recent  discovery.  You  can  see  now 
in  Berlin  and  London,  letters  written  fourteen  centuries 
before  Christ,  by  a  king  of  Jerusalem  who  describes 
himself  almost  in  the  very  words  which  the  Old  and 
the  New  Testaments  apply  to  Melchizedec.  He  says 
that  he  is  a  royal  priest  or  a  priestly  king.  He  says 
that  he  derived  his  royalty  neither  from  father  nor 
mother,  nor  by  genealogical  descent ;  and  he  says  that 
he  owes  it  to  "  the  great  King  "—possibly  an  equivalent 
to  the  "  Most  High  God ;  "  of  whom  Melchizedec  in 
Scripture  is  said  to  have  been  a  worshipper.  The  name 
of  the  letter  writer  is  not  Melchizedec,  but  the  fact  that 
that  royalty  was  not  hereditary,  like  a  Pharaoh's,  may 
explain  how  each  monarch  bore  his  own  personal 
appellation,  and  not  one  common  to  successive  members 
of  a  dynasty. 

And  are  not  the  names  of  King  and  city  significant 


104    RIGHTEOUSNESS  FIRST,  PEACE  SECOND 

— "  King  of  righteousness  ,  .  .  King  of  peace  ?  "  It 
sounds  like  a  yearning,  springing  up  untimely  in  those 
dim  ages  of  oppression  and  strife,  for  a  royalty  founded 
on  something  better  than  the  sword,  and  wielded  for 
something  higher  than  personal  ambition.  Such  an 
ideal  at  such  a  date  is  like  a  summer  day  that  has  wan- 
dered into  a  cold  March. 

But  the  writer  of  the  Epistle  to  the  Hebrews  imposes 
a  meaning  not  only  on  the  titles,  but  on  their  sequence. 
Of  course  therein  he  is  letting  a  sanctified  imagination 
play  round  a  fact,  and  giving  to  it  a  meaning  which  is 
not  in  it.  None  the  less  in  that  emphatic  expression 
"  -first  King  of  righteousness,  and  after  that  also  King 
of  peace,"  he  penetrated  very  deeply  into  the  heart  of 
Christ's  reign  and  work,  and  echoed  a  sentiment  that 
runs  all  through  Scripture.  Hearken  to  one  psalmist : 
"  The  mountains  shall  bring  peace  to  the  people,  and 
the  little  hills,  by  righteousness."  Hearken  to  another : 
"  Righteousness  and  peace  have  kissed  each  other." 
Hearken  to  a  prophet :  "  The  work  of  righteousness 
shall  be  peace  ;  and  the  effect  of  righteousness,  quietness 
and  assurance  for  ever."  Hearken  to  the  most  Hebrais- 
tic of  New  Testament  writers  :  "  The  fruit  of  righteous- 
ness is  sown  in  peace."  Hearken  to  the  central  teaching 
of  the  most  Evangelical,  if  I  may  so  say,  of  New  Testa- 
ment writers  :  "  Being  justified  " — made  righteous — 
"  by  faith,  we  have  peace  with  God."  So  the  "  first" 
and  the  "after  that"  reveal  to  us  the  very  depth  of 


RIGHTEOUSNESS  FIRST,  PEACE  SECOND    105 

Christ's  work,  and  carry  in  them  not  only  important 
teaching  as  to  that,  but  equally  important  directions 
and  guides  for  Christian  conduct ;  and  it  is  to  this 
aspect  of  my  text,  and  this  only,  that  I  ask  your  atten- 
tion now. 

The  order  which  we  have  here,  "  first  of  all  King  of 
righteousness,  and  after  that  King  of  peace,"  is  the  order 
which  I  shall  try  to  illustrate  in  two  ways.  First,  in 
reference  to  Christ's  work  on  the  individual  soul ;  second, 
in  reference  to  Christ's  work  on  society  and  communi- 
ties. 

First,  then,  here  we  have  laid  down  the  sequence  in 
which 

I.  Christ  Comes  with  His  Operations  and  His 
Gifts  to  the  Soul  that  Clings  to  Him. 

First  "  righteousness  .  .  .  after  .  .  ,  peace."  Now 
I  need  not  do  more  than  in  a  sentence  remind  you  of  the 
basis  upon  which  the  thoughts  in  the  text,  and  all  right 
understanding  of  Christ's  work  on  an  individual, 
repose,  and  that  is  that  without  righteousness  no  man 
can  either  be  at  peace  with  God  or  with  himself.  Not 
with  God — for  however  shallow  experience  may  talk 
effusively  and  gushingly  about  a  God  that  is  all  mercy, 
and  who  loves  and  takes  to  His  heart  the  sinner  and 
the  saint  ahke  ;  such  a  God  drapes  the  universe  in  dark- 
ness. And  if  there  are  no  moral  distinctions  which 
determine  whether  a  man  is  in  amity  or  hostility  with 
God,  then  "  the  pillared  firmament  itself  is  rottenness, 


106    RIGHTEOUSNESS  FIRST,  PEACE  SECOND 

and  earth's  base  built  on  stubble."  No,  no,  brethren  ; 
it  sounds  very  tender  and  kindly ;  at  bottom  it  is  the 
cruellest  thing  that  you  can  say,  to  say  that  without 
righteousness  a  man  can  please  God.  The  sun  is  in  the 
heavens,  and  whether  there  be  mist  and  fog  down  here, 
or  the  bluest  of  summer  sides,  the  sun  is  above.  But 
its  rays  coming  through  the  ethereal  blue  are  warmth 
and  blessedness,  and  its  rays  cut  ofi  by  the  mists  are 
dim,  and  itself  turned  into  a  lurid  ball  of  fire.  It  cannot 
be — and  thank  God  that  it  cannot — that  it  is  all  the 
same  to  Him  whether  a  man  is  saint  or  sinner. 

I  do  not  need  to  remind  you  that  in  like  manner 
righteousness  must  underlie  peace  with  oneself.  For 
it  is  true  to-day,  as  it  was  long  generations  ago,  according 
to  the  prophet,  that  "  the  wicked  is  like  the  troubled 
sea  which  cannot  rest,  whose  waters  throw  up  mire  and 
dirt,"  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the  promise  is  true  still 
and  for  ever ;  "  0  that  thou  hadst  hearkened  unto  me, 
then  had  thy  peace  been  like  a  river,"  because  "  thy 
righteousness  "  is  "  like  the  waves  of  the  sea."  For  ever 
and  ever  it  stands  true  that  for  peace  with  God,  and  for 
a  quiet  heart,  and  a  nature  at  harmony  with  itself,  there 
must  be  righteousness. 

Well  then,  Jesus  Christ  comes  to  bring  to  a  man 
the  righteousness  without  which  there  can  be  no  peace 
in  his  Ufe.  And  that  is  the  meaning  of  the  great  word 
which,  having  been  taken  for  a  shibboleth  and  "  test 
of  a  falling  or  a  standing  Church,"  has  been  far  too  much 


RIGHTEOUSNESS  FIRST,  PEACE  SECOND    107 

ossified  into  a  mere  theological  dogma,  and  has  been 
weakened  and  misunderstood  in  the  process.  Justifica- 
tion by  faith ;  that  is  the  battle-cry  of  Protestant  com- 
munities. And  what  does  it  mean  ?  That  I  shall  be 
treated  as  righteous,  not  being  so  ?  That  I  shall  be 
forgiven  and  acquitted  ?  Yes,  thank  God !  But  is 
that  all  that  it  means,  or  is  it  the  main  thing  that  it 
means  ?  No,  thank  God  !  for  the  very  heart  of  the 
Christian  doctrine  of  righteousness  is  this,  that  if,  and 
as  soon  as,  a  man  puts  his  trembling  trust  in  Jesus  Christ 
as  his  Saviour,  then  he  receives  not  merely  pardon,  which 
is  the  uninterrupted  flow  of  the  Divine  love  in  spite  of 
his  sin,  nor  a  crediting  him  with  a  righteousness  which 
does  not  belong  to  him,  but  an  imparting  to  him  of  that 
new  life,  a  spark  from  the  central  fire  of  Christ's  fife,  "  the 
new  man  which,  after  God,  is  created  in  righteousness 
and  true  holiness."  Do  not  suppose  that  the  great 
message  of  the  Gospel  is  merely  forgiveness.  Do  not 
suppose  that  its  blessed  gift  is  only  that  a  man  is  ac- 
quitted because  Christ  has  died.  All  that  is  true.  But 
there  is  something  more  than  that  which  is  the  basis  of 
that  other,  and  that  is  that  by  my  faith  in  Jesus  Christ, 
I  am  so  knit  to  Him — "He  that  is  joined  to  the  Lord  " 
being  "  one  spirit " — as  that  there  passes  into  me,  by 
His  gift,  a  hfe  which  is  created  after  His  life,  and  is  in 
fact  cognate  and  kindred  with  it. 

No  doubt  it  is  a  mere  germ,  no  doubt  it  needs  culti- 
vating, development,  carefully  guarding  against  gnawing 


108    RIGHTEOUSNESS  FIRST,  PEACE  SECOND 

insects  and  blighting  frosts.  But  the  seed  which  is 
implanted,  though  it  be  less  than  the  least  of  all  seeds, 
has  in  itself  the  promise  and  the  potency  of  triumphant 
growth,  when  it  will  tower  above  all  the  poisonous 
shrubs  and  undergrowth  of  the  forest,  and  have  the  light 
of  heaven  resting  on  its  aspiring  top.  Here  is  the  great 
blessing  and  distinctive  characteristic  of  Christian 
morahty,  that  it  does  not  say  to  a  man :  "  First  aim 
after  good  deeds,  and  so  grow  into  goodness,"  but  it 
starts  with  a  gift,  and  says,  "  Work  from  that,  and  by 
the  power  of  that.  '  I  make  the  tree  good,'  "  says  Jesus 
to  us,  "  do  you  see  to  it  that  the  fruit  is  good."  No 
doubt  the  vegetable  metaphor  is  inadequate,  because  the 
leaf  is  wooed  from  out  the  bud,  and  "  grows  green  and 
broad,  and  takes  no  care."  But  that  effortless  growth 
is  not  how  righteousness  increases  in  men.  The  germ 
is  given  them,  and  they  have  to  cultivate  it.  First, 
there  must  be  the  impartation  of  righteousness,  and 
then  there  comes  to  the  man's  heart  the  sweet  assur- 
ance of  peace  with  God,  and  he  has  within  him  "  a 
conscience  like  a  sea  at  rest,  imaginations  calm  and 
fair."  "  First,  King  of  righteousness ;  after  that,  King 
of  peace." 

Now  if  we  keep  firm  hold  of  this  sequence,  a  great 
many  of  the  popular  objections  to  the  Gospel,  as  if  it 
were  merely  a  means  of  forgiveness  and  escape,  and  a 
system  of  reconciliation  by  some  kind  of  forensic  ex- 
pedient, fall  away  of  themselves.     And  a  great  many 


RIGHTEOUSNESS  FIRST,  PEACE  SECOND    109 

of  the  popular  blunders  that  Christian  people  make 
fall  away  too.  For  there  are  good  folks  to  whom  the 
great  truth  that  "  God  is  in  Christ  reconciling  the  world 
to  Himself,  not  imputing  to  them  their  trespasses," 
and  welcoming  them  to  all  the  fulness  of  an  overflowing 
love,  has  obscured  the  other  truth  that  there  is  no 
peace  for  a  Christian  man  continuous  through  his  life, 
unless  equally  continuous  through  his  life  are  his  eSorts 
to  work  out  in  acts  the  new  nature  which  he  has  received. 
Thus  my  text,  by  the  order  in  which  it  places  righteous- 
ness and  peace,  not  only  illuminates  the  work  of  Christ 
upon  each  individual  soul,  but  comes  with  a  very 
weighty  and  clear  direction  to  Christian  people  as  to 
their  course  of  conduct.  Are  you  looking  for  comfort  ? 
Is  what  you  want  to  get  out  of  your  religion  mainly 
the  assurance  that  you  will  not  go  to  Hell  ?  Is  the  great 
blessing  that  Christ  brings  to  you  only  the  blessing  of 
pardon,  which  you  degrade  to  mean  immunity  from 
punishment  ?  You  are  wrong.  "  First  of  all,  King 
of  righteousness  "—let  that  which  is  first  of  all  in  His 
crifts  be  first  of  all  in  your  efforts  too ;  and  do  not  seek 
so  much  for  comfort  as  for  grace  to  know  and  to  do 
your  duty,  and  strength  to  "  cast  off  the  unfruitful 
works  of  darkness,"  and  to  "  put  on  the  armour  of 
light."  The  order  which  is  laid  down  in  my  text  was 
laid  down  with  a  different  application,  by  our  Lord 
Himself,  and  ought  to  be  in  both  forms  the  motto  for 
all  Christian  people.     "  Seek  ye  first  the  Kingdom  of 


110    RIGHTEOUSNESS  FIRST,  PEACE  SECOND 

(jrod  and  His  righteousness,  and  all  these  things " — 
comfort,  sense  of  reconciliation,  assurance  of  forgive- 
ness, joyful  hope,  and  the  like,  as  well  as  needful 
material  good — "  shall  be  added  unto  you." 
And  now,  secondly,  my  text  gives  the  order  of 
11.  Christ's  Work  in  the  World,  and  of  His 
Servant's  Work  after  Him. 

Of  course,  our  Lord's  work  in  the  World  is  simply  the 
aggregate  of  His  work  on  individual  souls.  But  for  the 
sake  of  clearness  we  may  consider  these  two  aspects 
of  it  somewhat  apart.  In  regard  to  this  second  part  of 
my  subject,  I  would  begin,  as  I  began  in  the  former 
section,  by  reminding  you  that  the  only  basis  on  which 
harmonious  relations  between  men  in  communities, 
great  or  small,  can  be  built,  is  righteousness,  in  the 
narrowest  sense  of  the  word,  meaning  thereby  justice, 
equal  dealing  as  between  man  and  man,  without  par- 
tiality or  class  favouritism.  Wherever  you  get  an  un- 
justly-treated section  or  order  of  men,  there  you  get 
the  beginnings  of  war  and  strife.  A  social  order  built 
upon  injustice,  just  in  the  measure  in  which  it  is  so  built, 
is  based  upon  a  quicksand  which  will  suck  it  down,  or  on 
a  volcano  which  will  blow  it  to  pieces.  Injustice  is  the 
grit  in  the  machine  ;  you  may  oil  it  as  much  as  you  like 
with  philanthropy  and  benevolence,  but  until  you  get  the 
grit  out  it  will  not  work  smoothly.  There  is  no  harmony 
amongst  men  unless  their  association  is  based  and 
bottomed  upon  righteousness. 


RIGHTEOUSNESS  FIRST,  PEACE  SECOND    111 

Jesus  Christ  comes  into  the  world  to  bring  peace  at 
the  far  end,  but  righteousness  at  the  near  end,  and 
therefore  strife.  The  herald  angels  sang  peace  upon 
earth.  They  were  looking  to  the  deepest  and  ultimate 
issues  of  His  mission,  but  when  He  contemplated  its 
immediate  results  He  had  to  say,  "  Suppose  ye  that  I 
bring  peace  on  earth  ?  I  tell  you  nay,  but  rather 
division."  He  rode  into  Jerusalem  "  the  King,  meek, 
and  having  salvation,"  throned  upon  the  beast  of 
burden  which  symbolized  peace.  But  He  will  come  forth 
in  the  last  fight,  as  He  has  been  coming  forth  through 
all  the  ages,  mounted  on  the  white  horse,  with  the 
sword  girt  upon  His  thigh  in  behalf  of  meekness  and 
righteousness  and  truth.  Christ,  and  Christianity  when 
it  keeps  close  to  Christ,  is  a  ferment,  not  an  emolUent. 
The  full  and  honest  appUcation  of  Christ's  teaching  and 
principles  to  any  society  on  the  face  of  the  earth  at  this 
day  is  bound  to  result  in  agitation  and  strife.  There  is 
no  help  for  it.  When  a  pure  jet  of  water  is  discharged 
into  a  foul  ditch,  there  will  be  much  uprising  of  mud. 
Effervescence  will  always  follow  when  Christ's  principles 
are  appUed  to  existing  institutions.  And  so  it  comes  to 
pass  that  Christian  men,  in  the  measure  in  which  they 
are  true  to  their  Master,  turn  the  world  upside  down. 
There  will  follow,  of  course,  the  tranquiUity  that  does 
follow  on  righteousness  ;  but  that  is  far  ahead,  and  there 
is  many  a  weary  mile  to  be  trod,  and  many  a  sore 
struggle  to  be  undertaken,  before  the  kingdoms  of  this 


112    RIGHTEOUSNESS  FIRST,  PEACE  SECOND 

world  become  the  Kingdom  of  om-  Lord  and  of  His 
Christ,  and  strife  ends  for  ever. 

Now,  if  this  be  so,  then  in  this  necessary  characteristic 
of  Christ's  operation  on  the  world,  viz.,  disturbance 
arising  from  the  endeavour  to  enthrone  righteousness 
where  its  opposite  has  ruled — there  results  very  plainly 
important  teaching  as  to  the  duties  of  Christ's  servants 
to  take  their  full  share  in  the  fight,  to  be  the  Knights 
of  the  Holy  Ghost,  the  champions  of  righteousness. 
The  Church  ought  to  lead  in  the  van  of  all  assaults  on 
hoary  wrongs  or  modern  forms  of  unrighteousness  in 
municipal,  political,  national  life.  And  it  is  the  dis- 
grace of  the  Church  that  so  largely  it  leaves  that  contest 
to  be  waged  by  men  who  jnake  no  pretence  to  be 
Christians. 

There  is,  unfortunately,  a  type  of  Christian  thinking 
and  life,  of  which  in  many  respects  one  would  speak  with 
all  sympathy  and  admiration,  which  warns  the  Christian 
Church  against  casting  itself  into  this  contest,  in  the 
alleged  interest  of  a  superior  spirituality,  and  a  loftier 
conception  of  Evangelical  truth.  I  believe,  as  heartily 
as  any  man  can — and  I  venture  to  appeal,  to  those  who 
hear  me  Sunday  by  Sunday,  and  from  year  to  year, 
whether  it  is  not  so — that  the  preaching  of  Jesus  Christ 
is  the  cure  for  all  the  world's  miseries,  and  the  banish- 
ment of  all  the  world's  unrighteousness,  but  am  I  to  be 
told  that  the  endeavour  to  apply  the  person  and  the 
principles  of  Jesus  Christ,  in  His  Hfe  and  death,  to 


RIGHTEOUSNESS  FIRST,  PEACE  SECOND    113 

existing  institutions  and  evils,  is  not  preaching  Christ  ? 
I  beheve  that  it  is,  and  that  that  is  one  thing  that  the 
Church  wants  to-day, — not  less  of  holding  up  the  Cross 
and  the  Sacrifice,  but  more  of  pointing  to  the  Cross  and 
the  Sacrifice  as  the  cure  of  all  the  world's  evils,  and  the 
pattern  for  all  righteousness. 

It  is  difiicult  to  do,  it  is  made  difiicult  by  our  own 
desire  to  be  what  the  prophet  did  not  think  a  very 
reputable  position,  "  at  ease  in  Zion."  It  is  also  made 
difficult  by  the  way  in  which,  as  is  most  natural,  the 
world,  meaning  thereby  Godless,  organized  society, 
regards  an  active  Church  that  desires  to  bring  its  prac- 
tices to  the  test  of  Christ's  word.  Muzzled  watchdogs 
that  can  neither  bark  nor  bite  are  much  admired  by 
burglars.  And  a  Church  that  confines  itself  to  theory, 
to  what  it  calls  religion,  and  leaves  the  world  to  go  to 
the  devil  as  it  likes.,  suits  both  the  world  and  the  devil. 
There  was  once  a  Prime  Minister  of  England  who  came 
out  of  church  one  Sunday  morning  in  a  state  of  towering 
indignation  because  the  clergyman  had  spoken  about 
conduct.  And  that  is  exactly  how  the  world  feels  about 
an  intrusive  Church  that  mil  push  its  finger  into  all 
social  arrangements,  and  say  about  each  of  them, 
"  This  must  be  done  as  Christ  commanded." 

Brethren,  would  God  that  all  Christian  men  deserved 
the  name  of  "  troublers  of  Israel."  There  was  once  a 
prophet  to  whom  the  men  of  his  day  indignantly  said, 
"  0  sword  of  the  Lord,  how  long  will  it  be  ere  thou  be 

M.S.  8 


114    RIGHTEOUSNESS  FIRST,  PEACE  SECOND 

quiet  ?  Put  up  thyself  in  thy  scabbard,  rest  and  be 
still."  And  the  answer  was  the  only  possible  one, 
"  How  can  it  be  quiet,  seeing  that  the  Lord  hath  ap- 
pointed it  ?  "  If  you  and  I  are  Christ's  servants,  we 
shall  follow  the  sequence  of  His  operations,  and  seek  to 
establish  righteousness  first  and  then  peace. 
The  true  Salem  is  above. 

"My  soul,  there  is  a  country 
Afar  beyond  the  stars." 

There  "  sweet  peace  sits  crowned  with  smiles."  The 
swords  will  then  be  wreathed  with  laurel,  and  men 
"  shall  learn  war  no  more,"  for  the  King  has  fought  the 
great  fight,  "  and  of  the  increase  of  His  government  and 
peace  there  shall  be  no  end  ...  in  righteousness  and 
justice,  from  henceforth  even  for  ever."  Let  us  take 
Him  for  "  the  Lord  our  righteousness,"  and  we  shall 
blessedly  find  that  "this  Man  is  our  peace." 
Let  us  take  arms  in  the  Holy  War  which  He  wages, 
and  we  shall  have  peace  in  our  hearts  whilst  the 
fight  is  sorest.  Let  us  labour  to  "  be  found  in  Him 
.  .  .  having  the  righteousness  which  is  of  God  by  faith," 
and  then  we  shall  "  be  found  in  Him  in  peace,  without 
spot,  blameless." 


Two  Shepherds  and  Two   Flocks 

Like  sheep  they  are  laid  in  the  grave  :  Death  shall  feed  on  them  — 
Psalm  xlix.    14. 

The  Lamb  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  Throne  shall  feed  them. — 
Rev.  vii.  17. 

THESE  two  verses  have  a  much  closer  parallelism 
in  expression  than  appears  in  our  Authorized 
Version.  If  you  turn  to  the  Revised  Version  you  will 
find  that  it  rightly  renders  the  former  of  my  texts, 
"  Death  shall  be  their  shepherd,"  and  the  latter,  "  The 
Lamb  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  shall  be  their 
Shepherd."  The  Old  Testament  psalmist  and  the  New 
Testament  seer  have  fallen  upon  the  same  image  to 
describe  death  and  the  future,  but  with  how  different 
a  use !  The  one  paints  a  grim  picture,  all  sunless  and 
full  of  shadow ;  the  other  dips  his  pencil  in  brilliant 
colours,  and  suffuses  his  canvas  with  a  glow  as  of  molten 
sunlight.  The  difference  between  the  two  is  partly  due 
to  the  progress  of  Revelation  and  the  light  cast  on 
life  and  immortality  by  Christ  through  the  gospel. 
But  it  is  much  more  due  to  the  fact  that  the  two  writers 
have  different  classes  in  view.      The  one  is  speaking  oi 


116    TWO  SHEPHERDS  AND  TWO  FLOCKS 

men  whose  portion  is  in  this  life,  the  other  of  men  who 
have  washed  their  robes  and  made  them  white  in  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb.  And  it  is  the  characters  of  the  per- 
sons concerned,  much  more  than  the  degree  of  enlighten- 
ment possessed  by  the  writers,  that  makes  the  difference 
between  these  two  pictures.  Life  and  death  and  the 
future  are  what  each  man  makes  of  them  for  himself. 
We  shall  best  deal  with  these  two  pictures  if  we  take 
them  separately,  and  let  the  gloom  of  the  one  enhance 
the  glory  of  the  other.  They  hang  side  by  side,  like  a 
Rembrandt  beside  a  Claude  or  a  Turner,  each  intensify- 
ing by  contrast  the  characteristics  of  the  other.  So  let 
us  look  at  the  two — first,  the  grim  picture  drawn  by  the 
psalmist ;  second,  the  sunny  one  drawn  by  the  seer. 
Now,  with  regard  to  the  former, 

I.    The  Grim  Picture  Drawn  by  the  Psalmist. 

We  too  often  forget  that  a  psalmist  is  a  poet,  and 
misunderstand  his  spirit  by  treating  his  words  as  matter- 
of-fact  prose.  His  imagination  is  at  work,  and  our 
symphathetic  imagination  must  be  at  work  too,  if  we 
would  enter  into  his  meaning.  Death  a  shepherd — 
what  a  grim  and  bold  inversion  of  a  famiHar  metaphor  ! 
If  this  psalm  is,  as  is  probable,  of  a  comparatively  late 
date,  then  its  author  was  familiar  with  many  sweet  and 
tender  strains  of  early  singers,  in  which  the  blessed 
relation  between  a  loving  God  and  an  obedient  people 
was  set  forth  under  that  metaphor.  "  The  Lord  is  my 
Shepherd  "  may  have  been  ringing  in  his  ears  when  he 


TWO  SHEPHERDS  AND  TWO  FLOCKS       117 

said,  "  Death  is  their  shepherd."  He  lays  hold  of  the 
familiar  metaphor,  and  if  I  may  so  speak,  turns  it  up- 
side down,  stripping  it  of  all  that  is  beautiful,  tender, 
and  gracious,  and  draping  it  in  all  that  is  harsh  and 
terrible.  And  the  very  contrast  between  the  sweet 
relation  which  it  was  originally  used  to  express,  and  the 
opposite  kind  of  one  which  he  uses  it  to  set  forth,  gives 
its  tremendous  force  to  the  daring  metaphor. 

"  Death  is  their  shepherd."  Yes,  but  what  manner  of 
shepherd  ?  Not  one  that  gently  leads  his  flock,  but 
one  that  stalks  behind  the  huddled  sheep,  and  drives 
them  fiercely,  club  in  hand,  on  a  path  on  which  they 
would  not  willingly  go.  The  unwelcome  necessity,  by 
which  men  that  have  their  portion  in  this  world  are 
hounded  and  herded  out  of  all  their  sunny  pastures 
and  abundant  feeding,  is  the  thought  that  underlies 
the  image.  It  is  accentuated,  if  we  notice  that  in  the 
former  clause,  "  like  sheep  they  are  laid  in  the  grave," 
the  word  rendered  in  the  Authorized  Version  "  laid," 
and  in  the  Revised  Version  "  appointed,"  is  perhaps 
more  properly  read  by  many,  "  like  sheep  they  are 
thrust  down.'"  There  you  have  the  picture — the  shep- 
herd stalking  behind  the  helpless  creatures,  and  coercing 
them  on  an  unwelcome  path. 

Now  that  is  the  first  thought  that  I  suggest,  that  to 
one  type  of  man.  Death  is  an  unwelcome  necessity. 
It  is,  indeed,  a  necessity  to  us  all,  but  necessities  accepted 
cease  to  be  painful ;  and  necessities  resisted — what  do 


118    TWO  SHEPHERDS  AND  TWO  FLOCKS 

they  become  ?  Here  is  a  man  being  swept  down  a  river, 
the  sound  of  the  falls  is  in  his  ears,  and  he  grasps  at 
anything  on  the  bank  to  hold  by,  but  in  vain.  That  is 
how  some  of  us  feel  when  we  face  the  thought,  and  will 
feel  more  when  we  front  the  reality,  of  that  awful 
"  must."  "  Death  shall  be  their  shepherd,"  and  coerce 
them  into  darkness.  Ask  yourself  the  question,  Is 
the  course  of  my  life  such  as  that  the  end  of  it  cannot 
but  be  a  grim  necessity  which  I  would  do  anything  to 
avoid  ? 

This  first  text  suggests  not  only  a  shepherd  but  a 
fold  :  "  Like  sheep  they  are  thrust  down  to  the  grave." 
Now  I  am  not  going  to  enter  upon  what  would  be  quite 
out  of  place  here  :  a  critical  discussion  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment conception  of  a  future  life.  That  conception 
varies,  and  is  not  the  same  in  all  parts  of  the  book.  But 
I  may,  just  in  a  word,  say  that  "  the  grave  "  is  by  no 
means  the  adequate  rendering  of  the  thought  of  the 
psalmist,  and  that  "  Hell "  is  a  still  more  inadequate 
rendering  of  it.  He  does  not  mean  either  the  place  where 
the  body  is  deposited,  or  a  place  where  there  is  punitive 
retribution  for  the  wicked,  but  he  means  a  dim  region, 
or,  if  I  might  so  say,  a  localized  condition,  in  which  all 
that  have  passed  through  this  life  are  gathered,  where 
personality  and  consciousness  continue,  but  where 
life  is  faint,  stripped  of  all  that  characterizes  it  here, 
shadowy,  unsubstantial,  and  where  there  is  inactivity, 
absolute  cessation  of  all  the  occupations  to  which  men 


TWO  SHEPHERDS  AND  TWO  FLOCKS       119 

were  accustomed.  But  there  may  be  restlessness  along 
with  inactivity  ;  may  there  not  ?  And  there  is  no  such 
restlessness  as  the  restlessness  of  compulsory  idleness. 
That  is  the  main  idea  that  is  in  the  psalmist's  mind. 
He  knows  little  about  retribution,  he  knows  still  less 
about  transmutation  into  a  glorious  likeness  to  that 
which  is  most  glorious  and  divine.  But  he  conceives 
a  great,  dim,  lonely  land,  wherein  are  prisoned  and 
penned  all  the  lives  that  have  been  foamed  away  vainly 
on  earth,  and  are  now  settled  into  a  dreary  monotony 
and  a  restless  idleness.  As  one  of  the  other  books  of 
the  Old  Testament  puts  it,  it  is  a  "  land  of  the  shadow 
of  death,  without  order,  and  in  which  the  light  is  as 
darlmess." 

I  know,  of  course,  that  all  that  is  but  the  imperfect 
presentation  of  partially  apprehended,  and  partially 
revealed,  and  partially  revealable  truth.  But  what  I 
desire  to  fix  upon  is  that  one  dreary  thought  of  this  fold, 
into  which  the  grim  shepherd  has  driven  his  flock,  and 
where  they  lie  cribbed  and  huddled  together  in  utter 
inactivity.  Carry  that  with  you  as  a  true,  though 
incomplete  thought. 

Let  me  remind  you,  in  the  next  place,  with  regard 
to  this  part  of  my  subject,  of  the  kind  of  men  whom 
the  grim  shepherd  drives  into  that  grim  fold.  The 
psalm  tells  us  that  plainly  enough.  It  is  speaking  of 
men  who  have  their  portion  in  this  life,  who  "  trust  in 
their  wealth,  and  boast  themselves  in  the  multitude  of 


120    TWO  SHEPHERDS  AND  TWO  FLOCKS 

their  riclies  .  .  .  whose  inward  thought  is  that  their 
house  shall  continue  for  ever  .  .  .  who  call  their  lands 
after  their  own  names."  Of  every  such  man  it  says : 
"  when  he  dieth  he  shall  carry  nothing  away  " — none 
of  the  possessions,  none  of  the  forms  of  activity  which 
were  familiar  to  him  here  on  earth.  He  will  go  into  a 
state  where  he  finds  nothing  which  interests  him,  and 
nothing  for  him  to  do. 

Must  it  not  be  so  ?  If  we  let  ourselves  be  absorbed 
and  entangled  by  the  affairs  of  this  life,  and  permit  our 
whole  spirits  to  be  bent  in  the  direction  of  these  transient 
things,  what  is  to  become  of  us  when  the  things  that 
must  pass  have  passed,  and  when  we  come  into  a 
region  where  there  are  none  of  them  to  occupy  us  any 
more  ?  What  would  some  Manchester  men  do  if  they 
were  in  a  condition  of  life  where  they  could  not  go  on 
'Change  on  Tuesdays  and  Fridays  ?  What  would  some 
of  us  do  if  the  professions,  and  forms  of  mental  activity, 
in  which  we  have  been  occupied  as  students  and  scholars 
were  swept  away  ?  "  Whether  there  be  knowledge  it 
shall  cease  ;  whether  there  be  tongues  they  shall  vanish 
away,"  and  what  are  you  going  to  do  then,  you  men 
that  have  only  lived  for  intellectual  pursuits  connected 
with  this  transient  state  ?  We  are  going  to  a  world  where 
there  are  no  books,  no  pens  nor  ink,  no  trade,  no  dress, 
no  fashion,  no  amusements  ;  where  there  is  nothing  but 
things  in  which  some  of  us  have  no  interest,  and  a  God 
who  "is  not  in  all  our  thoughts."  Surely  we  shall  be  "  fish 


TWO  SHEPHERDS  AND  TWO  FLOCKS       121 

out  of  water  "  there.  Surely  we  shall  feel  that  we  have 
been  banned  and  banished  from  everything  that  we 
care  about.  Surely  men  that  boasted  themselves  in 
their  riches,  and  in  the  multitude  of  their  wealth,  will 
be  necessarily  condemned  to  inactivity.  Life  is  con- 
tinuous, and  all  on  one  plane.  Surely  if  a  man 
knows  that  he  must  some  day,  and  may  any  day,  be 
summoned  to  the  other  side  of  the  world,  he  would  be 
a  wise  man  if  he  got  his  outfit  ready,  and  made  some 
effort  to  acquire  the  customs  and  the  arts  of  the  land 
to  which  he  was  going.  Surely  life  here  is  mainly  given 
to  us  that  we  may  develop  powers  which  will  find  their 
field  of  exercise  yonder,  and  acquire  characters  which 
shall  be  in  conformity  with  the  conditions  of  that  future 
life.  Surely  there  can  be  no  more  tragic  folly  than  the 
folly  of  letting  myself  be  so  absorbed  and  entangled 
by  this  present  world,  as  that  when  the  transient  has 
passed,  I  shall  feel  homeless  and  desolate,  and  have 
nothing  that  I  can  do  or  care  about  amidst  the  activities 
of  Eternity.  Dear  friend,  should  you  feel  homeless  if 
you  were  taken,  as  you  will  be  taken,  into  that  world  ? 

Turn  now  to 

IL    The  Sunny  Landscape  Drawn  by  the  Seer. 

Note  the  contrast  presented  by  the  shepherds. 
"  Death  shall  be  their  shepherd."  "The  Lamb  which 
is  in  the  midst  of  the  throne  shall  be  their  shep- 
herd." I  need  not  occupy  your  time  in  trying  to  show, 
what  has  sometimes  been  doubted,  that  the  radiant 


122    TWO  SHEPHERDS  AND  TWO  FLOCKS 

picture  of  the  Apocalyptic  Seer  is  dealing  with  no- 
thing in  the  present,  but  with  the  future  condition 
of  certain  men.  I  would  just  remind  you  that  the  words 
in  which  it  is  couched  are  to  a  large  extent  a  quotation 
from  ancient  prophecy,  a  description  of  the  Divine 
watchfulness  over  the  pilgrim's  return  from  captivity  to 
the  Land  of  Promise.  But  the  quotation  is  wonder- 
fully elevated  and  spirituaHzed  in  the  New  Testament 
vision ;  for  instead  of  reading,  as  the  Original  does : 
"  He  that  hath  mercy  on  them  shall  lead  them,"  we 
have  here,  "  the  Lamb  which  is  in  the  midst  of  the 
Throne  shall  be  their  Shepherd,"  and  instead  of  their 
being  led  merely  to  "  the  springs  of  water,"  here  vv'e 
read  that  He  "  leads  them  to  the  fountains  of  the  water 
of  life." 

We  have  to  think,  first,  of  that  most  striking,  most 
significant  and  profound  modification  of  the  Old  Testa- 
ment words,  which  presents  the  Lamb  as  "  the  Shep- 
herd." All  Christ's  shepherding  on  earth  and  in  heaven 
depends,  as  do  all  our  hopes  for  heaven  and  earth,  upon 
the  fact  of  His  sacrificial  death.  It  is  only  because 
He  is  the  "  Lamb  that  was  slain  "  that  He  is  either  the 
"  Lamb  in  the  midst  of  the  Throne,"  or  the  Shepherd 
of  the  flock.  And  we  must  make  acquaintance  with 
Him  first  in  the  character  of  "  the  Lamb  of  God  which 
taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world,"  before  we  can  either 
follow  in  His  footsteps  as  our  Guide,  or  be  compassed 
by  His  protection  as  our  Shepherd. 


TWO  SHEPHERDS  AND  TWO  FLOCKS       123 

He  is  the  Lamb,  and  He  is  the  Shepherd — that  suggests 
not  only  that  the  sacrificial  work  of  Jesus  Christ  is  the 
basis  of  all  His  work  for  us  on  earth  and  in  Heaven, 
but  the  very  incongruity  of  making  one,  who  bears  the 
same  nature  as  the  flock  to  be  the  Shepherd  of  the 
flock,  is  part  of  the  beauty  of  the  metaphor.  It  is  His 
Humanity  that  is  our  guide.  It  is  His  continual  Man- 
hood, all  through  eternity  and  its  glories,  that  makes 
Him  the  Shepherd  of  perfected  souls.  They  follow  Him 
because  He  is  one  of  themselves,  and  He  could  not  be 
the  Shepherd  unless  he  were  the  Lamb. 

But  then  this  other  Shepherd  is  not  only  gracious, 
sympathetic,  kin  to  us  by  participation  in  a  common 
nature,  and  fit  to  be  our  Guide  because  He  has  been  our 
Sacrifice  and  the  propitiation  of  our  sins,  but  He  is  the 
Lamb  "  in  the  midst  of  the  throne,"  wielding  therefore 
all  Divine  power,  and  standing — not  as  the  rendering  in 
our  Bible  leads  an  English  reader  to  suppose,  on  the 
Throne,  but — in  the  middle  point  between  it  and  the 
ring  of  worshippers,  and  so  the  Communicator  to  the 
outer  circumference  of  all  the  blessings  that  dwell  in 
the  Divine  centre.  He  shall  be  their  Shepherd,  not 
coercing,  not  driving  by  violence,  but  leading  to  the 
fountains  of  the  waters  of  life,  gently  and  graciously. 
And  it  is  not  compulsory  energy  which  he  exercises 
upon  us,  either  on  earth  or  in  Heaven,  but  it  is  the 
draAving  of  a  Divine  attraction,  sweet  to  put  forth  and 
sweet  to  yield  to. 


124    TWO  SHEPHERDS  AND  TWO  FLOCKS 

There  is  still  another  contrast.  Death  huddled  and 
herded  his  reluctant  sheep  into  a  fold  where  they  lay 
inactive  but  struggling  and  restless.  Christ  leads  His 
flock  into  a  pasture.  He  shall  guide  them  "  to  the 
fountains  of  waters  of  life."  I  need  not  dwell  at  any 
length  on  the  blessed  particulars  of  that  future,  set 
forth  here  and  in  the  context.  But  let  me  suggest  them 
briefly.  There  is  joyous  activity.  There  is  constant 
progression.  He  goeth  before  ;  they  follow.  The  per- 
fection of  heaven  begins  at  entrance  into  it,  but  it  is 
a  perfection  which  can  be  perfected,  and  is  being  per- 
fected, through  the  ages  of  Eternity,  and  the  picture  of 
the  Shepherd  in  front  and  the  flock  behind,  is  the  true 
conception  of  all  the  progress  of  that  future  life.  "  They 
shall  follow  the  Lamb  whithersoever  He  goeth " — a 
sweet  guidance,  a  glad  following,  a  progressive  con- 
formity !     "  In  the  long  years  Hker  must  they  grow." 

Further,  there  is  the  communication  of  life  more  and 
more  abundantly.  Therefore  there  is  the  satisfaction 
of  all  desire,  so  that  "  they  shall  hunger  no  more,  neither 
thirst  any  more."  The  pain  of  desire  ceases  because 
desire  is  no  sooner  felt  than  it  is  satisfied,  the  joy  of 
desire  continues,  because  its  satisfaction  enables  us  to 
desire  more,  and  so,  appetite  and  eating,  desire  and 
fruition,  alternate  in  ceaseless  reciprocity.  To  us,  being 
every  moment  capable  of  more,  more  will  be  given  ; 
and  "  to-morrow  shall  be  as  this  day,  and  much  more 
abundant." 


TWO  SHEPHERDS  AND  TWO  FLOCKS      125 

There  is  one  point  more  in  regard  to  that  pasture  into 
which  the  Lamb  leads  the  happy  flock,  and  that  is,  the 
cessation  of  all  pains  and  sorrows.  Not  only  shall  they 
"  hunger  no  more,  neither  thirst  any  more  "  ;  but  "  the 
sun  shall  not  smite  them,  nor  any  heat,  and  God  shall 
wipe  away  all  tears  from  their  eyes."  Here  the  Shep- 
herd carried  rod  and  staff,  and  sometimes  had  to  strike 
the  wandering  sheep  hard  :  there  these  are  needed  no 
more.  Here  He  had  to  move  them  sometimes  out  of 
green  pastures,  and  away  from  still  waters,  into  valleys 
of  the  shadow  of  death  ;  but  "  there,"  as  one  of  the 
prophets  has  it :  "  they  shall  lie  in  a  good  fold,  and  in  a 
fat  pasture  shall  they  feed." 

But  now,  we  must  note,  finally,  the  other  kind  of 
men  whom  this  other  Shepherd  leads  into  His  pastures. 
"  They  have  washed  their  robes  and  made  them  white 
in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb."  Aye  !  that  is  it.  That  is 
why  He  can  lead  them  where  He  does  lead  them.  Strange 
alchemy  which  out  of  two  crimsons,  the  crimson  of  our 
sins  and  the  crimson  of  His  blood,  makes  one  white  ! 
But  it  is  so,  and  the  only  way  by  which  we  can  ever  be 
cleansed,  either  with  the  initial  cleansing  of  forgiveness, 
or  with  the  daily  cleansing  of  continual  purifying  and 
approximation  to  the  Divine  holiness,  is  by  our  bringing 
the  foul  garment  of  our  stained  personality  and  character 
into  contact  with  the  blood  which,  "  shed  for  many,"- 
takes  away  their  sins,  and,  infused  into  their  veins, 
cleanses  them  from  all  sin. 


126    TWO  SHEPHERDS  AND  TWO  FLOCKS 

You  have  yourselves  to  bring  about  that  contact. 
"  They  have  washed  their  robes,"  And  how  did  they  do 
it  ?  By  faith  in  the  Sacrifice  first,  by  following  the 
Example  next.  For  it  is  not  merely  a  forgiveness  for 
the  past,  but  a  perfecting,  progressive  and  gradual,  for 
the  future,  that  Hes  in  that  thought  of  washing  their 
robes  and  making  them  white  in  the  blood  of  the  Lamb. 

Dear  brethren,  Hfe  here  and  life  hereafter  are  con- 
tinuous. They  are  homogeneous,  on  one  plane  though 
an  ascending  one.  The  differences  there  are  great — 
I  was  going  to  say,  and  it  would  be  true,  that  the  resem- 
blances are  greater.  As  we  have  been,  we  shall  be.  If 
we  take  Christ  for  our  Shepherd  here,  and  follow 
Him,  though  from  afar,  and  with  faltering  steps,  amidst 
all  the  struggles  and  windings  and  rough  ways  of  life, 
then  and  only  then,  will  He  be  our  Shepherd,  to  go  with 
us  through  the  darkness  of  death,  to  make  it  no  reluc- 
tant expulsion  from  a  place  that  we  would  fain  continue 
to  be  in,  but  a  tranquil  and  willing  following  of  Him  by 
the  road  which  He  has  consecrated  for  ever,  and  de- 
prived for  ever  of  its  solitude,  because  Himself  has  trod 
it.  Those  two  possibiUties  are  before  each  of  us. 
Either  of  them  may  be  yours.  One  of  them  must  be. 
Look  on  this  picture  and  on  this ;  and  choose — God 
help  you  to  choose  aright — which  of  the  two  will  describe 
your  experience.  Will  you  have  Christ  for  your  Shep- 
herd, or  will  you  have  Death  for  your  shepherd  ?  The 
answer  to  that  question  lies  in  the  answer  to  the  other — 


TWO  SHEPHERDS  AND  TWO  FLOCKS       127 

have  you  washed  your  robes,  and  made  them  white  in 
the  blood  of  the  Lamb  ;  and  are  you  following  Him  ? 
You  can  settle  the  question  which  lot  is  to  be  yours,  and 
only  you  can  settle  it.  See  that  you  settle  it  aright,  and 
that  you  settle  it  soon. 


Death,  the   Friend 

"  All  things  are  yours  .  .  .  death." — 1  Cor.  iii.  21,  22. 

WHAT  Jesus  Christ  is  to  a  man  settles  what  every- 
thing else  is  to  Him.  Om"  relation  to  Jesus 
determines  our  relation  to  the  universe.  If  we  belong 
to  Him,  everything  belongs  to  us.  If  we  are  His  ser- 
vants, all  things  are  our  servants.  The  household  of 
Jesus,  which  is  the  whole  Creation,  is  not  divided  against 
itself,  and  the  fellow  servants  do  not  beat  one  another. 
Two  bodies  moving  in  the  same  direction,  and  under 
the  impulse  of  the  same  force,  cannot  come  into  colHsion 
and  since  "  all  things  work  together,"  according  to  the 
counsel  of  His  will,  "  all  things  work  together  for  good  " 
to  His  lovers.  The  triumphant  words  of  my  text  are 
no  piece  of  empty  rhetoric,  but  the  plain  result  of  two 
facts — Christ's  rule  and  the  Christian's  submission. 
"  All  things  are  yours,  and  ye  are  Christ's."  So  the 
stars  in  their  courses  fight  against  those  who  fight  against 
Him,  and  if  we  are  at  peace  with  Him  we  shall  "  make 
a  league  with  the  beasts  of  the  field,  and  the  stones  of 


DEATH,  THE   FRIEND  129 

the  field,"  which  otherwise  would  be  hindrances  and 
stumbling-blocks,  "  shall  be  at  peace  with  "  us. 

The  Apostle  carries  his  confidence  in  the  subservience 
of  all  things  to  Christ's  servants  very  far,  and  the  words 
of  my  text,  in  which  he  dares  to  suggest  that  "  the 
Shadow  feared  of  man"  is,  after  all,  a  veiled  friend, 
are  hard  to  beheve,  when  we  are  brought  face  to  face 
with  death,  either  when  we  meditate  on  our  own  end, 
or  when  our  hearts  are  sore  and  our  hands  are  empty. 
Then  the  question  comes,  and  often  is  asked  with  tears 
of  blood,  is  it  true  that  this  awful  force,  which  we  cannot 
command,  does  indeed  serve  us  ?  Did  it  serve  those 
whom  it  dragged  from  our  sides  ;  and  in  serving  them, 
did  it  serve  us  ?  Paul  rings  out  his  "  Yes  "  ;  and  if  we 
have  as  firm  a  hold  of  Paul's  Lord  as  Paul  had,  our 
answer  will  be  the  same.  Let  me,  then,  deal  with  this 
great  thought  that  hes  here,  of  the  conversion  of  the 
last  enemy  into  a  friend,  the  assurance  that  we  may  all 
have  that  death  is  ours,  though  not  in  the  sense  that  we 
can  command  it,  yet  in  the  sense  that  it  ministers  to  our 
highest  good. 

That  thought  may  be  true  about  ourselves  when  it 
comes  to  our  turn  to  die,  and,  thank  God,  has  been  true 
about  all  those  that  have  departed  in  His  faith  and  fear. 
Some  of  you  may  have  seen  two  very  striking  engravings 
by  a  great,  though  somewhat  unknown  artist,  repre- 
senting Death  as  the  Destroyer  and  Death  as  the  Friend. 
In  the  one  case  he  comes  into  a  scene  of  wild  revelry, 

M.S.  9 


130  DEATH,    THE   FRIEND 

and  there  at  his  feet  lie,  stark  and  stiff,  corpses  in  their 
gay  clothing,  and  with  garlands  on  their  brows,  and 
feasters  and  musicians  are  flpng  in  terror  from  the 
cowled  Skeleton.  In  the  other  he  conies  into  a  quiet 
church  belfry,  where  an  aged  saint  sits  with  folded  arms 
and  closed  eyes,  and  an  open  Bible  by  his  side,  and  end- 
less peace  upon  the  wearied  face.  The  window  is  flung 
wide  to  the  sunrise,  and  on  its  sill  perches  a  bird  that 
gives  forth  its  morning  song.  The  cowled  figure  has 
brought  rest  to  the  weary,  and  the  glad  dawning  of  a 
new  hfe  to  the  aged,  and  is  a  friend.  The  two  pictures 
are  better  than  all  the  poor  words  that  I  can  say.  It 
depends  on  the  people  to  whom  he  comes,  whether  he 
comes  as  a  destroyer  or  as  a  helper.  Of  course,  for  all 
of  us  the  mere  physical  facts  remain  the  same,  the  pangs 
and  the  pain,  the  slow  torture  of  the  loosing  of  the  bond, 
or  the  sharp  agony  of  its  instantaneous  rending  apart. 
But  we  have  gone  but  a  very  little  way  into  life  and  its 
experiences,  if  we  have  not  learnt  that  identity  of  cir- 
cumstances may  cover  profound  difference  of  essentials, 
and  that  the  same  experiences  may  have  wholly  different 
messages  and  meanings  to  two  people  who  are  equally 
implicated  in  them.  Thus,  while  the  physical  fact 
remains  the  same  for  all,  the  whole  bearing  of  it  may 
so  differ  that  Death  to  one  man  will  be  a  Destroyer, 
while  to  another  it  is  a  Friend.  For,  if  we  come  to 
analyse  the  thoughts  of  himianity  about  the  last  act  in 
human  life  on  earth,  what  is  it  that  makes  the  dread 


DEATH,    THE    FRIEND  131 

darkness  of  death,  which  all  men  know,  though  they  so 
seldom  think  of  it  ? 

I  suppose,  first  of  all,  if  we  seek  to  question  our  feelings, 
that  which  makes  Death  a  foe  to  the  ordinary  experi- 
ence is  that  it  is  Uke  a  step  off  the  edge  of  a  precipice  in 
a  fog ;  a  step  into  a  dim  condition  of  which  the  Imagina- 
tion can  form  no  conception,  because  it  has  no  experi- 
ence, and  all  Imagination's  pictures  are  painted  with 
pigments  drawn  from  our  past.  Because  it  is  impossible 
for  a  man  to  have  any  clear  vision  of  what  it  is  that  is 
coming  to  meet  him,  and  he  cannot  tell  "  in  that  sleep 
what  dreams  may  come,"  he  shrinks,  as  we  all  shrink, 
from  a  step  into  the  vast  Inane,  the  dim  Unknown. 
But  the  Gospel  comes  and  says,  "  It  is  a  land  of  great 
darkness,"  but  "  to  the  people  that  sit  in  darkness  a 
great  light  hath  shined." 

"  Our  knowledge  of  that  life  is  small. 
The  eye  of  faith  is  dim." 

But  faith  has  an  eye,  and  there  is  light,  and  this  we  can 
see — One  face  Whose  brightness  scatters  all  the  gloom, 
One  Person  Who  has  not  ceased  to  be  the  Sun  of 
Righteousness  with  healing  in  His  beams,  even  in  the 
darkness  of  the  grave.  Therefore,  one  at  least  of  the 
repellent  features  which,  to  the  timorous  heart,  makes 
Death  a  foe,  is  gone,  when  we  know  that  the  known 
Christ  fills  the  Unknown. 

Then,  again,  another  of  the  elements,  as  I  suppose. 


132  DEATH,    THE    FRIEND 

which  constitute  the  hostile  aspect  that  Death  assumes 
to  most  of  us,  is  that  it  apparently  hales  us  away  from 
all  the  wholesome  activities  and  occupations  of  life, 
and  bans  us  into  a  state  of  apparent  inaction.  The 
thought  that  death  is  rest  does  sometimes  attract  the 
weary  or  harassed,  or  they  fancy  it  does,  but  that  is  a 
morbid  feeling,  and  much  more  common  in  sentimental 
epitaphs  than  among  the  usual  thoughts  of  men.  To 
most  of  us  there  is  no  joy,  but  a  chill,  in  the  anticipation 
that  all  the  forms  of  activity  which  have  so  occupied,  and 
often  enriched,  our  lives  here,  are  to  be  cut  ofE  at  once. 
"  What  am  I  to  do  if  I  have  no  books  ?  "  says  the  stu- 
dent. "  What  am  I  to  do  if  I  have  no  mill  ?  "  says  the 
spinner.  "  What  am  I  to  do  if  I  have  no  nursery  or 
kitchen  ?  "  say  the  women.  What  are  you  to  do  ? 
There  is  only  one  quieting  answer  to  such  questions. 
It  tells  us  that  what  we  are  doing  here  is  learning  our 
trade,  and  that  we  are  to  be  moved  into  another  work- 
shop there,  to  practise  it.  Nothing  can  bereave  us  of 
the  force  we  made  our  own,  being  here  ;  and  "  there  is 
nobler  work  for  us  to  do  "  when  the  Master  of  all  the 
servants  stoops  from  His  Throne  and  says :  "  Thou 
hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will  make  thee 
ruler  over  many  things  ;  have  thou  authority  over  ten 
cities."  Then  the  faithfulness  of  the  steward  will  be 
exchanged  for  the  authority  of  the  ruler,  and  the  toil 
of  the  servant  for  a  share  in  the  joy  of  the  Lord. 
So  another  of  the  elements  which  make  Death  an 


DEATH,    THE   FRIEND  133 

enemy  is  turned  into  an  element  which  makes  it  a 
friend,  and  instead  of  the  separation  from  this  earthly- 
body,  the  organ  of  our  activity  and  the  medium  of  our 
connexion  with  the  external  Universe,  being  the  con- 
demnation of  the  naked  spirit  to  inaction,  it  is  the 
emancipation  of  the  spirit  into  greater  activity.  For 
nothing  drops  away  at  death  that  does  not  make  a  man 
the  richer  for  its  loss,  and  when  the  dross  is  purged  from 
the  silver,  there  remains  "  a  vessel  unto  honour,  fit  for 
the  Master's  use."  This  mightier  activity  is  the  contri- 
bution to  our  blessedness  which  Death  makes  to  them 
who  use  their  activities  here  in  Christ's  service. 

Then,  still  further,  another  of  the  elements  which  is 
converted  from  being  a  terror  into  a  joy  is  that  Death, 
the  separator,  becomes  to  Christ's  servants  Death,  the 
uniter.  We  all  know  how  that  function  of  death  is 
perhaps  the  one  that  makes  us  shrink  from  it  the  most, 
dread  it  the  most,  and  sometimes  hate  it  the  most.  But 
it  will  be  with  us  as  it  was  with  those  that  were  to  be 
initiated  into  ancient  rehgious  rites.  BUndfolded,  they 
were  led  by  a  hand  that  grasped  theirs  but  was  not  seen, 
through  dark,  narrow,  devious  passages,  but  they  were 
led  into  a  great  company  in  a  mighty  hall.  Seen  from 
this  side,  the  ministry  of  Death  parts  a  man  from 
dear  ones,  but,  oh  !  if  we  could  see  round  the  turn  in  the 
corridor,  we  should  see  that  the  solitude  is  but  for  a 
moment,  and  that  the  true  office  of  Death  is  not  so  much 
to  part  from  those  beloved  on  earth  as  to  carry  to,  and 


134  DEATH,    THE    FRIEND 

unite  with,  Him  that  is  best  Beloved  in  the  heavens, 
and  in  Him  with  all  His  saints.  They  that  are  joined 
to  Christ,  as  they  who  pass  from  earth  are  joined,  are 
thereby  joined  to  all  who,  in  like  manner,  are  knit  to 
Him.  Although  other  dear  bonds  are  loosed  by  the 
bony  fingers  of  the  Skeleton,  his  very  loosing  of  them 
ties  more  closely  the  bond  that  unites  us  to  Jesus,  and 
when  the  dull  ear  of  the  dying  has  ceased  to  hear  the 
voices  of  earth  that  used  to  thrill  it  in  their  lowest  whis- 
per, I  suppose  it  hears  another  Voice  that  says :  "  When 
thou  passest  through  the  fire  I  will  be  with  thee,  and 
through  the  waters  they  shall  not  overwhelm  thee." 
Thus  the  Separator  unites,  first  to  Jesus,  and  then  to 
"  the  general  assembly  and  Church  of  the  first-born," 
and  leads  into  the  city  of  the  living  God,  the  pilgrims 
who  long  have  lived,  often  isolated,  in  the  desert. 

There  is  a  last  element  in  Death  which  is  changed  for 
the  Christian,  and  that  is  that  to  men  generally,  when 
they  think  about  it,  there  is  an  instinctive  recoil  from 
Death,  because  there  is  an  instinctive  suspicion  that 
after  Death  is  the  Judgment,  and  that,  somehow  or 
other — never  mind  about  the  drapery  in  which  the  idea 
may  be  embodied  for  our  weakness — when  a  man  dies 
he  passes  to  a  state  where  he  will  reap  the  consequences 
of  what  he  has  sown  here.  But  to  Christ's  servant 
that  last  thought  is  robbed  of  its  sting,  and  all  the  poison 
sucked  out  of  it,  for  he  can  say  :  "  He  that  died  for  me 
makes  it  possible  for  me  to  die  undreading,  and  to  pass 


DEATH,    THE    FRIEND  135 

thither,  knowing  that  I  shall  meet  aij  my  Judge  Him 
Whom  I  have  trusted  as  my  Saviour,  and  so  may  have 
boldness  before  Him  in  the  Day  of  Judgment." 

Knit  these  four  contrasts  together.  Death  as  a  step 
into  a  dim  unknown  versus  Death  as  a  step  into  a  region 
lighted  by  Jesus ;  Death  as  the  cessation  of  activity  versus 
Death  as  the  introduction  to  nobler  opportunities,  and 
the  endowment  with  nobler  capacities  of  service  ;  Death 
as  the  separator  and  isolator  versus  Death  as  uniting  to 
Jesus  and  all  His  lovers  ;  Death  as  haling  us  to  the 
judgment-seat  of  the  adversary  versus  Death  as  bring- 
ing us  to  the  tribunal  of  the  Christ ;  and  I  think  we  can 
understand  how  Christians  can  venture  to  say,  "All 
things  are  ours,  whether  life  or  death  "  which  leads  to  a 
better  life. 

And  now  let  me  add  one  word  more.  All  this  that 
I  have  been  saying,  and  all  the  blessed  strength  for 
ourselves  and  calming  in  our  sorrows  which  result  there- 
from, stand  or  fall  with  the  Resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ. 
There  is  nothing  else  that  makes  these  things  certain. 
There  are,  of  course,  instincts,  peradventures,  hopes, 
fears,  doubts.  But  in  this  region,  and  in  regard  to  all 
this  cycle  of  truths,  the  same  thing  applies  which  applies 
round  the  whole  horizon  of  Christian  Revelation — if 
you  want  not  speculations  but  certainties,  you  have  to 
go  to  Jesus  Christ  for  them.  There  were  many  men 
that  thoug  t  there  were  islands  of  the  sea  away  beyond 
the  setting  sun  that  dyed  the  western  waves,  but  Colum- 


136  DEATH,    THE    FRIEND 

bus  went  and  came  back  again,  and  brougbt  their  pro- 
ducts— and  then  the  thought  became  a  fact.  Unless 
you  beheve  that  Jesus  Christ  has  come  back  from  "  the 
bourne  from  which  no  traveller  returns,"  and  has  come 
laden  with  the  gifts  of  "  happy  isles  of  Eden  "  far  be- 
yond the  sea,  there  is  no  certitude  upon  which  a  dying 
man  can  lay  his  head,  or  by  which  a  bleeding  heart  can 
be  staunched.  But  when  He  draws  near,  aUve  from  the 
dead,  and  says  to  us,  as  He  did  to  the  disciples  on  the 
evening  of  the  day  of  Resurrection,  "  Peace  be  unto 
you,"  and  shows  us  His  hands  and  His  side,  then  we 
do  not  only  speculate  or  think  a  future  life  possible  or 
probable,  or  hesitate  to  deny  it,  or  hope  or  fear,  as  the 
case  may  be,  but  we  hnow,  and  we  can  say  :  "  All  things 
are  ours  .  .  .  death  "  amongst  others. 

The  fact  that  Jesus  Christ  has  died  changes  the  whole 
aspect  of  death  to  His  servant,  inasmuch  as  in  that  great 
solitude  he  has  a  companion,  and  in  the  valley  of  the 
shadow  of  death  sees  footsteps  that  tell  him  of  One  that 
went  before.  Nor  need  I  do  more  than  remind  you  how 
the  manner  of  our  Lord's  death  shows  that  He  is  Lord 
not  only  of  the  dead  but  of  the  Death  that  makes  them 
dead.  For  His  own  tremendous  assertion,  "  I  have 
power  to  lay  down  My  life,  and  I  have  power  to  take  it 
again,"  was  confirmed  by  His  attitude  and  His  words 
at  the  last,  as  is  hinted  at  by  the  very  expressions  with 
which  the  Evangelists  record  the  fact  of  His  death  : 
''  He  yielded  up  His  spirit,"  "  He  gave  up  the  ghost," 


DEATH,    THE   FRIEND  137 

"  He  breathed  out  His  life."  It  is  confirmed  to  us  by- 
such  words  as  those  remarkable  ones  of  the  Apocalypse, 
which  speak  of  Him  as  "  the  Living  One,"  who,  by  His 
own  will,  "  became  dead."  He  died  because  He  would, 
and  He  would  die  because  He  loved  you  and  me.  And 
in  dying.  He  showed  Himself  to  be,  not  the  Victim,  but 
the  Conqueror,  of  the  Death  to  which  He  submitted. 
The  Jewish  King  on  the  fatal  field  of  Gilboa  called  his 
sword-bearer,  and  the  servant  came,  and  Saul  bade  him 
smite,  and  when  his  trembling  hand  shrank  from  such 
an  act,  the  King  fell  on  his  sword.  The  Lord  of  life 
and  death  summoned  His  servant  Death,  and  he  c  me 
obedient,  but  Jesus  died  not  by  Death's  stroke,  but  by 
his  own  act.  So  that  Lord  of  Death,  who  died  because 
He  would,  is  the  Lord  who  has  the  keys  of  death  and 
the  grave,  and  in  regard  to  one  servant  says,  "  I  will 
that  he  tarry  till  I  come,"  and  that  man  lives  through 
a  century,  and  in  regard  to  another  says,  "  Follow  thou 
Me,"  and  that  man  dies  on  a  cross.  The  dying  Lord  is 
Lord  of  Death,  and  the  living  Lord  is  for  us  all  the 
Prince  of  Life. 

Brethren,  we  have  to  take  His  yoke  upon  us  by  the 
act  of  faith  which  leads  to  a  love  that  issues  in  an  obedi- 
ence which  will  become  more  and  more  complete,  as  we 
become  more  fully  Christ's.  Then  death  will  be  ours, 
for  then  we  shall  count  that  the  highest  good  for  us  will 
be  fuller  union  with,  a  fuller  possession  of,  and  a  com- 
pleter conformity  to,  Jesus  Christ  our  King,  and  that 


138  DEATH,    THE    FRIEND 

whatever  brings  us  these,  even  though  it  brings  also 
pain  and  sorrow  and  much  from  which  we  shrink,  is 
all  on  our  side.  It  is  possible — may  it  be  so  with  each 
of  us  ! — that  for  us  Death  may  be,  not  an  enemy  that 
bans  us  into  darkness  and  inactivity,  or  hales  us  to  a 
judgment- seat,  but  the  Angel  who  wakes  us,  at  whose 
touch  the  chains  fall  off,  and  who  leads  us  through 
"  the  iron  gate  that  opens  of  its  own  accord,"  and  brings 
us  into  the  City. 


A   Fight  with   Depression 

Why  art  thou  cast  down,  O  my  soul ;  and  why  art  thou  dis- 
quited  within  me  ?  hope  in  God  ;  for  I  shall  yet  praise  Him  Who  is 
the  health  of  my  countenance,  and  my  God.— Psalm  xMii.  5. 

THESE  words  occur  thrice,  at  short  intervals,  in 
this  psahn  and  in  the  preceding  one.  They  appear 
there  twice,  and  here  once.  Quite  obviously  the 
division  into  two  psalms  is  a  mistake,  for  the  whole 
constitutes  one  composition.  The  first  part  of  each  of 
the  sections,  into  which  the  one  original  psalm  is  divided 
by  the  repetition  of  this  refrain,  is  a  weary  monotone 
of  complaint.  The  Psalmist  is  in  circumstances  of 
depression  and  disappointment,  and  he  keeps  ringing 
the  changes  over  and  over  again  upon  his  sad  con- 
dition. But  then  he  struggles  up,  as  it  were,  to  the 
height  of  questioning  himself  what  all  this  trouble  of 
soul  and  depression  mean,  and  when  he  has  got  the 
length  of  questioning  his  mood  instead  of  passively 
yielding  to  it,  then  he  goes  further  and  encourages  him- 
self— "  Hope  thou  in  God." 


140  A  FIGHT   WITH   DEPRESSION 

But  again  the  wave  of  trouble  rolls  in,  and  sweeps 
away  the  flimsy  barrier  that  he  had  put  up.  The  weary 
round  is  gone  all  over  again — the  complaint  and  the 
enumeration  of  the  sad  things  that  befall  him,  and  the 
expressions  of  his  despondency.  Then  once  more  he 
lifts  his  head  above  water,  and  catches  a  glimpse  of  the 
light.  Again  he  asks,  "  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  0  my 
soul  ?  "  But  once  more  the  climbing  sorrow  gets  the 
better  of  him,  and  he  wails  his  complaint  all  over  again, 
and  then,  for  the  third  time,  he  rises  above  it,  and  re- 
builds his  wall  against  the  flood,  and  this  time  the 
barrier  stands,  and  the  flood  is  finally  dammed  back. 

Unless  we  look,  therefore,  not  only  at  the  words  them- 
selves, but  at  this  most  instructive  and  beautiful  fact  of 
their  recurrence,  and  at  what  separates  the  instances  of 
their  recurrence  from  one  another,  we  miss  the  chief 
lesson  of  this  Psalm.     We  note, 

I.     A  Dreary  Monotony  of  Complaint. 

We  all  know  the  temptation  of  being  overmastered 
by  some  calamity  or  some  sad  thought.  We  keep  chew- 
ing the  bitter  morsel  and  rolling  it  under  our  tongues, 
so  as  to  suck  all  the  bitterness  out  of  it  that  we  can. 
Circumstances,  no  doubt,  warranted  the  Psalmist's 
despondency,  but  no  circumstances  warranted  his 
tramping  on  and  on  and  on,  with  weary  reiteration, 
over  and  over  again,  in  one  mill-horse  round  of  com- 
plaint. Why  could  he  not  speak  it,  and  have  done 
with  it  ?     You  sometimes  see  upon  the  stage  of  a  theatre 


A  FIGHT   WITH  DEPRESSION  141 

a  procession  represented,  and  the  supernumeraries  pass 
across  the  stage,  and  go  round  at  the  back  and  come  in 
again  at  the  other  side,  and  so  keep  up  an  appearance  of 
numbers  far  beyond  the  reality.  That  is  like  what  we 
do  with  our  sorrows.  A  fly  has  an  eye,  with  I  do  not 
know  how  many  facets,  which  multiply  the  one  thing 
that  it  looks  at  into  an  enormous  number  ;  and  some  of 
us  have  eyes  made  on  that  fashion,  or  rather,  we  manu- 
facture for  our  eyes  spectacles  on  that  plan,  by  which 
we  look  at  our  griefs  or  our  depressing  circumstances, 
and  see  them  multiplied  and  nothing  but  them.  "  That 
way  madness  lies."  Absorption  in  one  set  of  circum- 
stances, however  sad,  and  however  crushing  may  be  their 
weight,  is  neither  wise,  nor  grateful,  nor  godly  ;  and  it 
saps  all  the  strength  out  of  a  man.  The  sky  is  never  all 
cloud  with  us  ;  it  sometimes  is  in  the  natural  world,  but 
the  Christian's  sky  is  never  all  full  of  gloom.  And  if  we 
sinfully,  although  so  naturally,  give  ourselves  up  to  the 
monotonous  contemplation  of  one  sad  set  of  circum- 
stances, then  we  are  forgetting  that  an  abyss  of  blue 
lies  at  the  back  of  the  cloud,  and  that,  in  comparison 
with  the  serene  and  unstained  infinitude  beyond,  the 
heaviest  thunder-laden  masses  are  but  thin  fihns  of  pass- 
ing vapour.  The  Psalmist  sets  us  an  example  to  be 
avoided,  in  his  triple  repetition  of  the  story  of  his  grief 
and  gloom.  They  have  taken  such  possession  of  him 
that  he  cannot  even  vary  his  words.  Twice  he  repeats, 
in  the  first  and  second  sections :  "  They  continually  say 


142         A   FIGHT   WITH    DEPRESSION 

unto  me,  Where  is  thy  God  ?  "  and  twice  he  repeats,  in 
the  second  and  third  sections :  "  Why  go  I  mourning 
because  of  the  oppression  of  the  enemy  ?  "  It  was 
folly  to  ask  this  question  twice.  It  was  returning  sanity 
thrice  to  ask  :  "  Why  art  thou  cast  down,  0  my  soul  ?  " 

And  so  we  hear  the  Psalmist  advancing  to  a  second 
stage,  and  that  is, 

II.     A  Wise  Self-Questioning. 

There  are  a  great  many  of  our  griefs  and  moods  and 
sorrows  that  will  not  stand  that  question.  Like  ghosts, 
if  you  speak  to  them,  they  vanish.  It  is  enough,  in  not 
a  few  of  the  lighter  and  more  gnat-like  troubles  that 
beset  us,  to  say  to  ourselves  :  "  What  art  thou  putting 
thyself  into  such  a  fume  about  ?  Why  art  thou  cast 
down  ?  "  For  very  many  of  them,  to  ask  the  question 
shows  the  impossibility  of  finding  a  reasonable  answer 
to  it.  But  even  with  regard  to  far  more  pressing  and 
poignant  griefs  and  burdens,  fiery  dragons  and  burning 
serpents  which  may  sting  and  poison  us,  still  the  ques- 
tion is  one  that  it  is  wise  for  a  man  to  ask.  We  cannot 
control  our  thoughts  nor  our  moods  directly,  but  we 
can  do  a  great  deal  to  regulate,  modify,  and  diminish 
those  of  them  that  need  diminishing,  and  increase  those 
of  them  that  need  to  be  increased,  by  looking  at  the 
reasons  for  them.  And  if  a  man  will  do  that  more 
habitually  and  conscientiously  than  most  of  us  are 
accustomed  to  do  it,  in  regard  both  to  passing  thoughts 
and  to  overpowering  moods  that  threaten  to  become 


A  FIGHT  WITH   DEPRESSION  143 

unwholesomely  permanent,  he  will  regain  a  firmer  con- 
trol of  himself— and  that  is  the  best  wealth  that  a  man 
can  have. 

"  He  that  hath  no  rule  over  his  own  spirit  is  like  a 
city  broken  down  without  walls,"  into  which  any  roving 
Bedouin  can  break,  and  carry  away,  loot,  and  work  his 
will.  If  we  do  not  set  a  guard  at  the  gates,  and  question 
the  traveller  that  wants  to  come  in,  what  his  business 
is,  and  what  is  his  right  to  enter,  we  shall  be  invaded  by 
a  host  of  very  undesirable  guests,  and  our  lives  will  go 
all  to  pieces.  Very  many  men  who  make  failures 
morally,  religiously,  or  even  socially  and  commercially, 
do  so  because  they  have  no  command  over  themselves, 
and  because  they  have  not  asked  this  question  of  each 
sly  temptation  that  comes  wheedling  up  to  the  gate  of 
the  soul,  with  whispering  breath  and  secret  suggestions 
— "  What  do  you  want  here  ?  What  reason  have  you 
for  wishing  to  come  in  ?  "  "  Why  art  thou  cast  down, 
0  my  soul  ?  " — question  yourselves  about  your  moods, 
and  especially  about  your  sad  moods,  and  you  will 
have  gone  a  long  way  to  make  yourselves  better  and 
happier  people  than  you  have  ever  been  before. 
Further,  we  have  here 

III.  An  Effort  Twice  Foiled  and  at  Last 
Successful. 

I  have  said  that  the  Psalmist  asks  this  question  three 
times.  Three  times,  as  it  were,  he  clutches  hold  of  the 
firm  stay  to  which  he  can  cling,  and  twice  is  swept  away 


144  A  FIGHT   WITH   DEPRESSION 

from  it ;  and  the  third  time  he  retains  his  grip.  Yes, 
and  that  is  often  the  case.  In  the  Cathedral  of  St. 
Mark's,  Venice,  there  is  a  mosaic  that  represents  Christ 
in  Gethsemane.  You  remember  that,  like  the  Psalmist, 
He  prayed  three  times  there,  and  twice  came  back,  not 
having  received  His  desire,  but  the  third  time  He  did 
receive  it.  The  devout  artist  has  presented  Him  thus  : 
the  first  time  prone  on  the  ground,  and  the  sky  all  black  ; 
the  second  time  raised  a  little,  and  a  strip  of  blue  in  one 
corner ;  and  the  third  time,  kneeling  erect,  and  a  beam 
from  heaven,  brighter  than  the  radiance  of  the  Paschal 
moon,  striking  right  down  upon  Him,  and  the  streng- 
thening Angel  standing  beside  Him.  That  was  the 
experience  of  the  Lord,  and  it  may  be  the  experience 
of  the  servant.  Once  I  ask,  twice  I  ask,  and  I  do  not 
receive  an  answer.  "  For  this  thing  I  besought  the 
Lord  thrice,  that  it  might  depart  from  me."  Thrice 
the  Psalmist  climbed,  like  some  poor  insect  trying  to  get 
up  a  blade  of  grass.  Twice  he  chmbed  and  twice 
fell,  but  the  third  time  he  reached  the  top  and  kept 
there. 

Brethren,  do  not  give  up  the  effort  at  self-control  and 
victory  over  circumstances  that  tempt  to  despondency 
or  to  sadness.  Even  if  you  fail  this  time,  still  the  failure 
has  left  some  increased  capacity  for  the  next  attempt, 
and  God  helping,  the  next  time  will  be  successful.  So, 
remember  the  threefold  repetition  of  this  self-question- 
ing and  self-encouragement. 


A    FIGHT    WITH   DEPRESSION  145 

Lastly,  we  have 

IV.     The  Conquering  Hope. 

The  Psalmist's  question  to  his  soul  is  not  answered. 
To  put  it  was  the  first  struggle  to  strip  ofE  the 
poisoned  sackcloth  in  which  he  had  wrapped  himself. 
But  his  next  word,  his  command  to  his  soul  to  hope 
in  God,  completes  the  process  of  putting  off  the 
robe  of  mourning,  and  girding  himself  with  gladness. 
He  makes  one  great  leap,  as  it  were,  across  the  black 
flood  that  has  been  ringing  him  round,  and  bids  his  soul : 
"  Hope  thou  in  God :  for  I  shall  yet  praise  Him,  Who  is 
the  health  of  my  countenance  and  my  God."  The  one 
medicine  for  a  disquieted,  cast-down  soul  is  hope  in  God. 
People  say  a  great  deal  about  the  buoyant  energy  of 
hope  bearing  a  man  up  over  his  troubles.  Yes,  so  it  does 
in  some  measure,  but  there  is  only  one  case  in  which 
there  is  a  real  bearing  up  over  the  troubles,  and  that  is 
where  the  hope  is  in  God.  I  have  heard  of  men  in  a 
shipwreck  who  fastened  the  life-buoy  round  their  waists, 
and  it  came  up  round  their  necks  and  choked  them. 
There  are  hopes  that  Hft  men  over  many  a  trouble,  and 
yet  they  are  not  the  right  sort,  and  they  may  ruin 
them  at  last. 

"  Hope  thou "     Yes  ;  but  what  am  I  to  hope  in  ? 

That  things  will  be  better  to-morrow  ?  Perhaps.  That 
I  shall  get  over  the  trouble  and  be  stronger  for  it  ? 
Possibly.  That  "the  light  affliction  is  but  for  a 
moment  ?  "     Well ;  some  of  them  are  not  "  but  for  a 

M.S.  10 


146  A    FIGHT   WITH    DEPRESSION 

moment."  "  Hope  thou  in  God  !  " — that  is  the  secret. 
It  is  only  the  sunrise  that  scatters  the  mists ;  and  it  is 
only  a  hope  "  in  God  "  that  is  sure  to  rise  victorious 
over  all  conceivable  troubles,  and  at  last  to  turn  des- 
pondency and  disquiet  into  brightness  and  calmness. 
That  is  the  one  rainbow  that  lies  above  the  fiercest  hell 
of  falhng  waters,  foaming  tortured  in  the  cataract. 
The  waters  foam  themselves  away,  "  the  things  that 
are  seen  are  temporal,"  but  the  rainbow  is  always  there, 
eternal.  "  Hope  in  God,"  and  the  blacker  the  cloud, 
the  brighter  will  be  the  colouring  of  the  bow  that  spans 
it.  "  Hope  in  God,"  and  disquiet,  and  all  the  other 
ghosts  of  the  night,  vanish  as  at  cockcrow. 

But  the  hope  that  is  in  God  must  be  a  hope  that  is 
based  upon  a  present  possession  of  Him.  "  Hope  thou 
in  God ;  He  is  the  health  of  my  countenance,  and  my 
God."  It  is  only  if  a  man  has  a  present  experience  of 
the  blessings  of  strong  and  all-sufficient  help  that  come 
to  him  now,  and  can  say,  "  My  God,  the  health  of  my 
countenance,"  that  he  has  the  right,  or  that  he  has  the 
inclination  or  the  power,  to  paint  the  future  with  bright- 
ness. A  present  experience  of  God  as  my  very  own, 
and  all-sufficient  for  health  and  help  and  for  the  brighten- 
ing of  my  face  in  all  hours  of  darkness,  is  the  only  ground 
on  which  I  can  hope  in  Him  for  every  future. 

And  we  shall  not  attain  either  to  that  experience  of 
God  as  ours,  or  to  the  hope  that,  springing  from  it,  will 
triumph  over  all  disquieting  circumstances,  without  a 


A  FIGHT  WITH  DEPRESSION  147 

dead  lift  of  effort.  The  Christian  hope  comes  to  no  man 
vdthout  his  definitely  endeavouring  after  it ;  and  there 
is  a  great  lack,  amongst  all  Christian  people,  of  realizing 
that  it  is  as  much  their  duty  to  cultivate  the  hope  of 
the  Christian,  as  it  is  their  duty  to  cultivate  any  other 
characteristic  of  the  Christian  life.  "  We  desire  that 
every  one  of  you  do  show  the  same  diligence,  in  order 
to  the  full  assurance  of  hope  unto  the  end." 


Thirst  and   Satisfaction 

My  soul   thirsteth   for  Thee  .  .  .  My  soul  shall  be  satisfied.  .  .  . 
My  soul  followeth  hard  after  Thee. — Psalm  Ixiii.  1,  5,  8. 

IT  is  a  wise  advice  which  bids  us  regard  rather  what 
is  said  than  who  says  it,  and  there  are  few  regions 
in  which  the  counsel  is  more  salutary  than  at 
present  in  the  study  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  especially 
the  Psalms.  Their  authorship  has  become  a  burning 
question,  which  is  only  too  apt  to  shut  out  far  more 
important  things.  Whoever  poured  forth  this  sweet 
meditation  in  the  psalm  before  us,  his  tender  longings 
for,  and  his  jubilant  possession  of,  God  remain  the 
same.  It  is  either  the  work  of  a  king  in  exile,  or  is 
written  by  some  one  who  tries  to  cast  himself  into  the 
mental  attitude  of  such  a  person,  and  to  reproduce 
his  longing  and  his  trust.  It  may  be  a  question  of 
literary  interest,  but  it  is  of  no  sort  of  spiritual  or  religious 
importance,  whether  the  author  is  David  or  a  singer  of 
later  date,  endeavouring  to  reproduce  his  emotions 
under  certain  circumstances. 

The  three  clauses  which  I  have  read,  and  which  are  so 


THIRST    AND    SATISFACTION  149 

strikingly  identical  in  form,  constitute  the  three  pivots 
round  which  the  psalm  revolves,  the  three  bends  in 
the  stream  of  its  thought  and  emotion.  "  My  soul 
thirsts  ;  my  soul  is  satisfied ;  my  soul  follows  hard 
after  Thee."  The  three  phases  of  feeling  follow  one 
another  so  swiftly  that  they  are  all  wrapped  up  in  the 
brief  compass  of  this  little  song.  Unless  they  in  some 
degree  express  our  experiences  and  emotions,  there  is 
little  likelihood  that  our  lives  will  be  blessed  or  noble, 
and  we  have  little  right  to  call  ourselves  Christians.  Let 
us  follow  the  windings  of  the  stream,  and  ask  ourselves 
if  we  can  see  our  own  faces  in  its  shining  surface. 

I.  The  Soul  that  Knows  its  Own  Needs  will 
Thirst  After  God. 

The  psalmist  draws  the  picture  of  himself  as  a  thirsty 
man  in  a  waterless  land.  That  may  be  a  literally 
true  reproduction  of  his  condition,  if  indeed  the  old  idea 
is  correct,  that  this  is  a  work  of  David's  ;  for  there 
is  no  more  appalUng  desert  than  that  in  which  he  wan- 
dered as  an  exile.  It  is  a  land  of  arid  mountains,  without 
a  blade  of  verdure,  blazing  in  their  ghastly  whiteness 
under  the  fierce  sunshine,  and  with  gaunt  ravines 
in  which  there  are  no  pools  or  streams,  and  therefore 
no  sweet  sound  of  running  waters,  no  shadow,  no  songs 
of  birds,  but  all  is  hot,  dusty,  glaring,  pitiless ;  and 
men  and  beasts  faint,  and  loll  out  their  tongues,  and  die 
for  want  of  water.  And,  says  the  Psalmist,  that  is 
life,  if  due  regard  be  had  to  the  deepest  wants  of  a  soul, 


150  THIRST   AND   SATISFACTION 

notwithstanding  all  the  abundant  supplies  which  are 
spread  in  such  rich  and  loving  luxuriance  around  us — 
a  long  fierce  thirst  in  a  waterless  land.  I  need  not 
remind  you  how  true  it  is  that  a  man  is  but  a  bundle 
of  appetites  and  desires,  often  tyrannous,  often  painful, 
always  active.  But  the  misery  of  it  is  that  he  does  not 
know  what  it  is  that  he  wants ;  that  he  thirsts,  but  does 
not  understand  what  the  thirst  means,  nor  what  it  is  that 
will  slake  it.  His  animal  appetites  make  no  mistakes ; 
he  and  the  beast  know  that  when  they  are  thirsty  they 
have  to  drink,  and  when  they  are  hungry  they  have  to 
eat,  and  when  they  are  drowsy  they  have  to  sleep. 
But  the  sure  instinct  of  the  animal  that  teaches  it  what 
to  choose  and  what  to  avoid  fails  us  in  the  higher 
reaches ;  and  we  are  conscious  of  a  craving,  and  do  not 
find  that  the  craving  reveals  to  us  the  source  from 
whence  its  satisfaction  can  be  derived.  Therefore 
"  broken  cisterns  that  can  hold  no  water  "  are  at  a 
premium,  and  "  the  fountain  of  Hving  waters "  is 
turned  away  from,  though  it  could  slake  so  many 
thirsts.  Like  ignorant  explorers  in  an  enemy's  country, 
we  see  a  stream,  and  we  do  not  stop  to  ask  whether 
there  is  poison  in  it  or  not,  before  we  glue  our  thirsty  lips 
to  it.  There  is  a  great  promise  in  one  of  the  prophets 
which  puts  the  misinterpretation  of  our  thirsts,  and 
the  mistakes  as  to  the  sources  from  which  they  can  be 
slaked,  into  one  beautiful  metaphor  which  is  obscured 
in    our    English    version.     The    prophet    Isaiah    says. 


THIRST    AND    SATISFACTION  151 

according  to  our  reading,  "  the  parched  land  shall 
become  a  pool."  The  word  which  he  uses  is  that 
almost  technical  one  which  describes  the  phenomenon 
known  only  in  Eastern  lands,  or  at  least  known  in  them 
in  its  superlative  degree— the  mirage,  where  the  dancing 
currents  of  ascending  air  stimulate  the  likeness  of  a  cool 
lake,  with  palm  trees  round  it.  And,  says  he,  "  the 
mirage  shall  become  a  pool,"  the  romance  shall  turn 
into  a  reality,  and  the  mistakes  shall  be  rectified,  and 
men  shall  know  what  it  is  that  they  want,  and  shall 
get  it  when  they  know.  Brethren,  unless  we  have 
Ustened  to  the  teaching  from  above,  unless  we  have 
consulted  far  more  wisely  and  far  more  profoundly 
than  many  of  us  have  ever  done,  the  meaning  of  our 
own  hearts  when  they  cry  out,  we,  too,  shall  only  be  able 
to  take  for  ours  the  plaintive  cry  of  one  half  of  this 
first  utterance  of  the  Psalmist,  and  say,  despairingly, 
"My  soul  thirsteth."  Blessed  are  they  who  know 
where  the  fountain  is,  who  know  the  meaning  of  the 
highest  unrests  in  their  own  souls,  and  can  go  on  with 
clear  and  true  self-revelation  to  declare:  "My  soul 
thirsteth  for  God." 

That  is  religion.  There  is  a  great  deal  more  in  Chris- 
tianity than  longing,  but  there  is  no  Christianity  worth 
the  name  without  it.  There  should  be  moral  stimulus 
to  activity,  a  pattern  for  conduct,  and  so  on,  in  our 
religion,  and  if  our  rehgion  is  only  this  longing— well 
then,  it  is  worth  very  little  ;  but  it  is  worth  a  good  deal 


152  THIRST   AND    SATISFACTION 

less,  if  there  is  none  of  this  felt  need  for  Grod,  and  for 
more  of  God,  in  it. 

And  so  I  speak  to  two  classes  of  my  hearers ;  and  to 
the  first  of  them  I  say :  dear  friends,  do  not  mistake 
what  it  is  that  you  need,  and  see  to  it  that  you  turn 
the  current  of  your  longings  from  earth  to  God ;  and 
to  the  second  of  them  I  say :  dear  friends,  if  you  have 
found  out  that  God  is  your  supreme  good,  see  to  it  that 
you  live  in  the  constant  attitude  of  longing  for  more  of 
that  Good  which  alone  will  slake  your  appetite. 

"The  thirst  that  from  the  soul  doth  rise 
Doth  ask  a  drink  Divine," 

for  unless  we  know  what  it  is  to  be  drawn  outwards 
and  upwards,  in  strong  aspirations  after  "  something 
afar  from  the  sphere  of  our  sorrow,"  I  know  not  why 
we  should  call  ourselves  Christians  at  all. 

But,  dear  friends,  let  us  not  forget  that  these  higher 
aspirations  after  the  uncreated  and  personal  good,  which 
is  God,  have  to  be  cultivated  very  sedulously  and  with 
great  persistence  throughout  all  our  changing  lives, 
or  they  will  soon  die  out  and  leave  us.  There  has  to  be 
the  clear  recognition,  habitual  to  us,  of  what  is  our 
Good.  There  has  to  be  a  continual  meditation,  if  I 
may  so  say,  upon  the  all-sufficiency  of  that  Divine 
Lord  and  Lover  of  our  souls,  and  there  has  to  be  a 
vigilant  and  a  continual  suppression,  and  often  excision 
and  ejection,  of  other  desires  after  transient  and  partial 


THIRST   AND    SATISFACTION  153 

satisfactions.  A  man  who  lets  all  his  longings  go 
unchecked  and  untamed  after  earthly  good  has  none 
left  towards  heaven.  If  you  break  up  a  river  into  a 
multitude  of  channels,  and  lead  off  much  of  it  to  irrigate 
many  little  gardens,  there  will  be  no  force  in  its  current, 
its  bed  will  become  dry,  and  it  will  never  reach  the 
great  ocean,  where  it  loses  its  individuaUty,  and  becomes 
part  of  a  mightier  whole.  So,  if  we  fritter  away  and 
divide  up  our  desires  among  all  the  clamant  and  partial 
blessings  of  earth,  then  we  shall  but  feebly  long  for,  and 
feebly  longing  shall  but  faintly  enjoy,  the  cool,  clear, 
exhaustless  gush  from  the  foimtain  of  life.  "  My  soul 
thirsteth  for  God  " — in  the  measure  in  which  that  is 
true  of  us,  and  not  one  hair's-breadth  beyond  it,  in 
spite  of  orthodoxy,  and  professions,  and  activities,  are  we 
Christian  people. 

II.  The  Soul  that  Thirsts  After  God  Is 
Satisfied. 

The  psalmist,  by  the  magic  might  of  his  desire, 
changes,  as  in  a  sudden  transformation  scene  in  a  theatre, 
all  the  dreariness  about  him.  The  one  moment  it  is  a 
dry  and  barren  land  where  no  water  is  ;  the  next  moment 
a  flash  of  verdure  has  come  over  the  yellow  sand,  and 
the  ghastly  silence  is  broken  by  the  song  of  merry  birds. 
The  one  moment  he  is  hungering  there  in  the  desert ; 
the  next,  he  sees  spread  before  him  a  table  in  the  wilder- 
ness and  liis  soul  is  "  satisfied  as  with  marrow  and 
with  fatness,"  and  his  mouth  praises  God,  Whom  he 


154  THIRST   AND    SATISFACTION 

possesses,  Who  has  come  unto  him  swift,  immediate, 
in  full  response  to  his  cry.  Now,  all  that  is  but  a 
picturesque  way  of  putting  a  very  plain  truth,  which 
we  should  all  be  the  happier  and  better  if  we  beheved 
and  hved  by,  that  we  can  have  as  much  of  God  as  we 
desire,  and  that  what  we  have  of  Him  will  be  enough. 

We  can  have  as  much  of  God  as  we  desire.  There 
is  a  quest  which  finds  its  object  with  absolute  certainty, 
and  which  finds  its  object  simultaneously  with  the 
quest.  And  these  two  things,  the  certainty  and  the 
immediateness  with  which  the  thirst  of  the  soul  after 
God  passes  into  a  satisfied  fruition  of  the  soul  in  God, 
are  what  are  taught  us  in  our  text ;  and  what  if  we 
comply  with  the  conditions  we  may  have  as  our  own 
blessed  experience.  There  is  one  search  about  which  it 
is  true  that  it  never  fails  to  find.  The  certainty  that 
the  soul  thirsting  after  God  shall  be  satisfied 
with  God,  results  at  once  from  His  nearness 
to  us,  and  His  infinite  wilHngness  to  give 
Himself,  which  He  is  only  prevented  from  carrying, 
into  act  by  our  obstinate  refusal  to  open  our  hearts  by 
desire.  It  takes  all  a  man's  indifference  to  keep  God 
out  of  his  heart,  "  for  in  Him  we  live,  and  move, 
and  have  our  being,"  and  that  Divine  love,  which 
Christianity  teaches  us  to  see  on  the  throne  of  the 
universe,  is  but  infinite  longing  for  self-communication. 
That  is  the  definition  of  true  love  always,  and  they 
fearfully  mistake  its  essence,  and  take  the  lower  and 


THIRST   AND    SATISFACTION  155 

spurious  forms  of  it  for  the  higher  and  nobler,  who 
think  of  love  as  being  what,  alas  !  it  often  is,  in  our 
imperfect  lives,  a  fierce  desire  to  have  for  our  very  own 
the  thing  or  person  beloved.  But  that  is  a  second 
rate  kind  of  love.  God's  love  is  an  infinite  desire  to 
give  Himself.  If  only  we  open  our  hearts — and  nothing 
opens  them  so  wide  as  longing — He  will  pour  in,  as 
surely  as  the  atmosphere  streams  in  through  every 
chink  and  cranny,  as  surely  as  if  some  great  black  rock 
that  stands  on  the  margin  of  the  sea  is  blasted  away,  the 
waters  will  flood  over  the  sands  behind  it.  So  unless 
we  keep  God  out,  by  not  wishing  Him  in,  in  He  will 
come. 

As  swift  as  Marconi's  wireless  message  across  the 
Atlantic  and  its  answer ;  so  immediate  is  the  response 
from  Heaven  to  the  desire  from  earth.  What  a  contrast 
that  is  to  all  our  experiences !  Is  there  anything 
else  about  which  we  can  say,  "I  am  quite  sure  that 
if  I  want  it,  I  shall  have  it  ?  "  I  am  quite  sure 
that  when  I  want  it,  I  have  it  ?  Nothing.  Earthly 
goods  are  like  the  wells  in  the  desert  to  which  the 
Bedouins  have  to  go,  with  empty  water-skins,  many  a 
day's  journey,  and  it  comes  to  be  a  fight  between  the 
physical  endurance  of  the  traveller  and  the  weary 
distance  between  him  and  the  spring.  Many  a  man's 
bones,  and  many  a  camel's,  lie  on  the  track  to  the  wells, 
who  lay  dowTi  gasping  and  black-hpped,  and  died 
before  they  reached  them.     We  all  know  what  it  is 


156  THIRST    AND    SATISFACTIOIS 

to  have  longing  desires  which  have  cost  us  many  efforts, 
and  efforts  and  desires  have  both  been  in  vain.  Is  it 
not  blessed  to  be  sure  that  there  is  One  Whom  to  long 
for  is  immediately  to  possess  ? 

Then  there  is  the  other  thought  here,  too,  that  when 
we  have  God  we  have  enough.  That  is  not  true  about 
anything  else.  God  forbid  that  one  should  depreciate 
the  wise  adaptation  of  the  earthly  goods  to  human 
needs  which  runs  all  through  every  life ;  but  all  that 
recognized,  still  we  come  back  to  this,  that  there  is 
nothing  here,  nothing  except  God  Himself,  that  will 
fill  all  the  corners  of  a  human  heart.  There  is  always 
something  lacking  in  all  other  satisfactions.  They  address 
themselves  to  sides,  and  angles,  and  faces  of  our  complex 
nature;  they  leave  all  the  others  unsatisfied.  The 
table  that  is  spread  in  the  world  at  which,  if  I  might  use 
so  violent  a  figure,  our  various  longings  and  capacities 
seat  themselves  as  guests,  always  fails  to  provide  for 
some  of  them,  and  whilst  some,  and  those  especially  of 
the  lower  type,  are  feasting  full,  there  sits  by  their 
side  another  guest,  who  finds  nothing  on  the  table  to 
satisfy  his  hunger.  But  if  my  soul  thirsts  for  God,  "my 
soul  shall  be  satisfied"  when  I  get  Him.  The  prophet 
Isaiah  modifies  this  figure  in  the  great  word  of  invita- 
tion which  pealed  out  from  him,  where  he  cries :  "Ho  ! 
every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters."  But 
that  figure  is  not  enough  for  him.  That  metaphor, 
blessed  as  it  is,  does  not  exhaust  the  facts ;  and  so  he 


THIRST   AND   SATISFACTION  157 

goes  on,  "  yea,  come,  buy  wine " — and  that  is  not 
enough  for  him,  that  does  not  exhaust  the  facts.  There- 
fore he  adds,  "  and  milk."  Water,  wine,  and  milk  ; 
all  forms  of  the  draughts  that  slake  the  thirsts  of  human- 
ity, are  found  in  God  himself,  and  he  who  has  Him  needs 
seek  nothing  besides. 

Lastly — 

III.  The  Soul  That  is  Satisfied  With  God 
Immediately    Renews    Its    Quest; 

"  My  soul  followeth  hard  after  Thee,"  The  two 
things  come  together,  longing  and  fruition.  Fruition 
begets  longing,  and  there  is  a  swift  and  blessed 
alternation,  or  rather  co-existence,  of  the  two. 
Joyful  consciousness  of  possession  and  eager  antici- 
pation of  larger  bestowments  are  blended  still 
more  closely,  if  we  adhere  to  the  original  meaning 
of  the  words  of  this  last  clause,  than  they  are  in  our 
translation,  for  the  psalm  really  reads,  "  My  soul  cleaveth 
after  Thee."  In  the  word  "  cleaveth "  is  expressed 
adhesion,  Hke  that  of  the  hmpet  to  the  rock,  conscious 
miion,  blessed  possession ;  and  in  the  other  word,  "  after 
Thee,"  is  expressed  the  pressing  onwards  for  more 
and  yet  more.  But  now  contrast  that  with  the  issue 
of  all  other  methods  of  satisfying  human  appetites,  be 
they  lower  or  be  they  higher.  They  result  either 
in  satiety  or  in  a  tyrannical,  diseased  increase  of  appetite 
faster  than  the  power  of  satisfying  it  increases.  The 
man  who  follows  after  other  good  than  God,  has  at  the 


158  THIRST   AND    SATISFACTION 

end  to  say,  "  I  am  sick  tired  of  it,  and  it  has  lost  all 
power  to  draw  me,"  or  he  has  to  say,  "  I  ravenously 
long  for  more  of  it,  and  I  cannot  get  any  more."  "  He 
that  loveth  silver  shall  not  be  satisfied  with  silver,  nor 
he  that  loveth  abundance  with  increase."  You  have 
to  increase  the  dose  of  the  narcotic,  and  as  you  increase 
the  dose,  it  loses  its  power,  and  the  less  you  can  do  with- 
out it,  the  less  it  does  for  you.  But  to  drink  into  the 
one  God  slakes  all  thirsts,  and  because  He  is  infinite 
and  our  capacity  for  receiving  Him  may  be  indefinitely 
expanded  ;  therefore,  "  Age  cannot  wither,  nor  custom 
stale  'His '  infinite  variety"  ;  but  the  more  we  have  of 
God,  the  more  we  long  for  Him,  and  the  more  we  long 
for  Him,  the  more  we  possess  Him. 

Brethren,  these  are  the  possibilities  of  the  Christian 
life ;  being  its  possibilities  they  are  our  obligations. 
The  psalmist's  words  may  well  be  turned  by  us  into 
self-examining  interrogations,  and  we  may — God  grant 
that  we  do — all  ask  ourselves  ;  "  Do  I  thus  thirst  after 
God  ?  "  "  Have  I  learnt  that,  notwithstanding  all 
suppHes,  this  world  without  Him  is  a  waterless  desert  ? 
Have  I  experienced  that  whilst  I  call  He  answers,  and 
that  the  water  flows  in  as  soon  as  I  open  my  heart  ?  And 
do  I  know  the  happy  birth  of  fresh  longings  out  of  every 
fruition,  and  what  it  is  to  go  further  and  further  into  the 
blessed  land,  and  into  my  elastic  heart  receive  more  and 
more  of  the  ever  blessed  God  ?  "  These  three  clauses 
not  only  set  forth  the  ideal  for  the  Christian  hfe  here, 


THIRST    AND    SATISFACTION  159 

but  they  carry  in  themselves  the  foreshadowing  of  the 
life  hereafter.  For  surely  such  a  merely  physical 
accident  as  death  cannot  be  supposed  to  break  this 
golden  sequence  if  it  has  run  through  life.  Surely 
this  partial  and  progressive  possession  of  an  Infinite 
Good,  by  a  nature  capable  of  indefinitely  increasing 
appropriation  of,  and  approximation  to,  it,  is  the 
prophecy  of  its  own  eternal  continuance.  So  long  as  the 
fountain  springs,  the  thirsty  lips  will  drink.  God's 
servants  will  live  till  God  dies.  The  Christian  life  will 
go  on,  here  and  hereafter,  till  it  has  reached  the  limits 
of  its  own  capacity  of  expansion,  and  has  exhausted 
God.  "  The  water  that  I  shall  give  him  shall  be  in  him  a 
well  of  water,  springing  up  into  everlasting  life." 


A  Song  of  Faith 


He  that  dwelleth  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High  shall  abide 
under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty. — Psalm  xci.  1. 

I  HAVE  read  this  verse,  but  I  desire  to  deal,  not 
with  it  merely,  but  with  the  whole  of  the  Psalm, 
of  which  it  is  the  introduction.  The  one  theme  of  it  is 
the  security  and  absolute  immunity  from  mortal  ills, 
which  belong  to  those  that  dwell  in  God.  That  one 
thought  is  worked  out  with  wonderful  force  and  variety. 
The  singer  is  borne  aloft  on  the  two  wings  of  devout 
confidence  and  poetic  imagination,  and  when  these  two 
beat  in  unison,  they  lift  a  man  high.  If  we  try  to  follow 
him  as  he  soars,  perhaps  we  too,  in  some  measure,  may 
be  raised  above  the  cares  and  sorrows  of  this  low- 
thoughted  earth. 

One  preliminary  remark  I  must  make,  and  that  is, 
that  throughout  the  psalm  there  is  a  very  remarkable 
alternation  of  speakers.  It  begins  with,  "  /  will  say  of 
the  Lord  "  ;  there  immediately  follows,  "  He  shall  de- 
liver thee  "  ;  and  so  on.  And  at  the  end,  the  person 
who  had  spoken  first  as  "  I,"  and  been  spoken  to   as 


A    SONG    OF   FAITH  161 

"  thou  "  and  "  thee,"  is  spoken  of  by  yet  another  voice, 
which  says,  "  He  has  set  His  love  upon  me."  That  re- 
markable and  dramatic  alternation  of  speakers  is  yet 
more  conspicuous  in  the  original  than  it  appears  in  our 
Authorized  Version,  because,  imbedded  in  the  very 
middle  of  that  second  portion,  in  which  "  thou  "  is  the 
prevaiUng  word,  we  have  a  verse  which,  as  it  stands  in 
the  Authorized  Version,  is  bewildering,  and  scarcely 
intelligible  without  a  great  deal  of  ekeing  out — "  because 
thou  hast  made  the  Lord,  which  is  my  Refuge,  even  the 
Most  High,  thy  habitation."  We  get  lost  amidst  the 
"  mys "  and  the  "  thys,"  but  the  Revised  Version, 
following  the  original,  clears  the  matter  up,  for  it  reads 
thus  :  "  Thou,  Lord,  art  my  Refuge."  There  speaks 
the  first  voice,  coming  in  again  with  its  "  my,"  and  then 
the  second  voice  once  more  responds  :  "  Thou  hast  made 
the  Lord  thy  habitation,  there  shall  no  evil  befall  thee." 
So  twice  we  have  the  solitary  profession  of  personal 
faith,  twice  responded  to  by  a  stream  of  great  assurances, 
and  these  are  finally  confirmed  and  enlarged  by  the  voice 
of  God  Himself. 

First,  then,  we  have  here 

I.    The  Solitary  Voice  of  Faith. 

The  words  that  I  have  read  as  my  text,  which  stand 
as  the  introduction  to  the  psalm,  are  the  expression  in 
the  most  general  form  of  that  great  truth  which  it  is 
all  intended  to  enforce  and  to  illustrate.  They  are 
chosen  with  exquisite  beauty  and  fehcity:    "He  that 

M.S.  11 


162  A    SONG    OF   FAITH 

dwelleth  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High  " — ^how- 
high  up  that  "  secret  place  "  must  be  !  how  deep  the 
silence  up  there  !  how  pure  the  air !  How  far  above 
the  poisonous  mists  that  cling  to  the  low-lying  swamps, 
how  far  out  of  the  reach  of  the  arrows  or  shots  of  the  foe- 
man  is  he  that  dwelleth  with  God  by  communion,  by 
constancy  of  desire,  by  aspiration,  and  by  clear  recogni- 
tion of  the  Divine  goal  of  all  his  efforts  in  the  midst  of  his 
most  strenuous  and  distracting  work,  and  his  most 
crushing  and  exhausting  sorrows  !  "He  that  dwelleth  " 
thus,  "  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High,  shall  abide 
under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty  " — and  since  He  is 
Almighty,  the  long  shadow  that  that  great  rock  casts 
will  shelter  him  who  keeps  beneath  it  from  the  burning 
rays  of  the  fiery  sunshine,  in  every  "  weary  land." 
The  plain  English  of  the  highly  imaginative  words  is, 
Let  me  keep  myself  in  touch  with  God,  and  I  keep 
myself  master  of  all  things,  and  secure  from  the  evil 
that  is  in  evil. 

That  is  the  general  truth,  but  religious  commonplaces 
lose  their  power  by  their  generality,  and  in  order  to  give 
them  force  we  must  point  them  to  a  personal  application. 
So  the  Psalmist,  encouraged  by  his  contemplation  of  that 
broad  universal  principle,  takes  it  for  his  own,  and 
brings  "  I  "  and  "  my  "  into  it,  and  that  changes  it  from 
a  toothless,  useless,  threadbare  commonplace,  which  a 
man  may  have  in  his  creed  without  its  doing  him  one 
morsel  of  good,  into  a  living  experience,     "  /  will  say 


A    SONG    OF   FAITH  163 

of  the  Lord,  He  is  my  Rock  and  my  Fortress  ;  my  God, 
in  Whom  /  will  trust."  Do  we  say  that  ?  Have  we 
translated  the  universal  into  the  particular  ?  Has  the 
contemplation  of  the  most  wide-stretching  truth  en- 
couraged us  to  grasp  it  and  make  it  our  very  own  ?  To 
do  so  gives  gloss  to  the  threadbare,  freshness  to  the  trite 
and  familiar,  beauty  and  force  to  the  commonplace. 
And  there  is  no  religion  which  is  not  the  appropriation 
to  my  very  own  self  of  the  great  truths  that  are  meant 
for  the  world.  So  much  of  Niagara  as  you  turn  into 
your  own  sluice  will  irrigate  your  barren  fields  and  slake 
your  thirst,  and  all  the  rest,  as  far  as  you  are  concerned, 
is  waste.  It  is  useless  to  say,  however  solemnly,  and 
with  however  entire  assent  of  the  understanding,  "  he 
that  dwelleth  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High  shall 
abide  under  the  shadow  of  the  Almighty  " — unless  you 
take  the  further  step,  and  in  your  own  needs  and  sorrows, 
in  your  own  hours  of  weakness  and  of  stress  when  the 
enemy  is  coming  in  like  a  flood,  say  "  my  Fortress,  my 
Strength,  my  God  in  Whom  /  will  trust." 

Next  we  come  to 

II.  The  Great  Assurances  Which  Answer  to  This 
Solitary  Voice  of  Faith. 

Whether  the  psalm  was  intended  to  be  sung  by  any 
kind  of  alternate  responsive  choir  and  solo  voice  or  no, 
we  need  not  consider ;  at  all  events,  it  is  laid  out  in  that 
structure  which  I  have  already  pointed  out.  So  when 
the  single  soul  has  brought  itself  up,  by  the  effort  of  its 


164  A   SONG    OF   FAITH 

faith,  to  make  God  its  Refuge  and  its  Fortress,  then 
there  come  pouring  in  upon  it,  as  if  spoken  from  with- 
out, but  yet  brought  near  to  it  and  made  audible  for  it 
by  its  own  personal  faith,  a  whole  host  of  great  certain- 
ties. 

"Surely  He  shall  deUver  thee  from  the  snare  of  the 
fowler,  and  from  the  noisome  pestilence."  The  "  fow- 
ler "  is  in  other  places  of  Scripture  taken  as  a  metaphor 
for  death ;  and  obviously  the  thing  that  was  chiefly,  if 
not  exclusively,  in  the  psalmist's  mind  here,  was  the 
assurance  of  protection  from  insidious  threatening  evils 
that  affected  physical  hfe.  The  "  pestilence  "  and  the 
"  fowler  "  stands  for  these. 

Then  there  follows  a  beautiful  description  of  the  man- 
ner and  condition  of  that  Divine  protection :  "  He 
shall  cover  thee  with  his  feathers."  That  carries  us 
back  to  the  old  word  about  the  eagle  stirring  up  its  nest, 
and  bearing  its  young  upon  its  pinions,  and  suggests  the 
tenderness  that  is  lodged  in  the  might  of  that  Divine 
nature ;  and  how  He,  the  loftiest,  knows  what  it  is  to 
have  paternal  care  over  them  that  put  their  trust  in 
Him.  But  we  must  not  forget  a  yet  more  gracious 
expansion  of  the  word  when,  in  the  course  of  ages.  One 
caught  up  the  echoes  of  the  old,  sweet  metaphor,  and 
said:  "As  a  hen  gathereth  her  chickens  under  her 
wings,"  so  I  would  have  gathered  thee.  Christ  turned 
away  from  the  emblem  of  the  fierce  bird  of  prey,  and, 
with  lowly  love,  took  up  the  emblem  of  the  harmless, 


A    SONG    OF   FAITH  165 

domestic  fowl  to  express  the  warmth,  the  secm-ity,  of 
the  relation  of  the  loving  servant  to  the  Master-Lord. 

But,  further,  we  have  to  note  that  there  is  here,  too, 
the  condition  on  which  the  shelter  of  that  strong  pinion 
is  ours.  "  He  shall  cover  thee  with  His  feathers,"  but 
not  unless  "  Under  His  wings  shalt  thou  trust,"  or,  as 
the  word  had  better  be  rendered  in  this  connexion, 
"  Under  His  wings  shalt  thou  flee  for  refuge."  What 
becomes  of  the  chickens  that  are  straying  about  the 
barnyard,  when  kites  are  in  the  sky  or  the  fox  lurking 
behind  the  wall  ?  They  are  snapped  up.  What  be- 
comes of  the  Christian  man  that  strays  out  of  the  pro- 
tection of  the  covering  wing,  and  by  self-will,  or  failure 
of  trust,  or  practical  disobedience,  or  fixing  the  heart 
and  desire  on  earthly  things,  gets  away  from  his  Defence 
and  his  Defender  ?  What  becomes  of  him  ?  The  snare 
of  the  fowler  is  not  spread  in  vain,  and  he  is  caught  and 
limed  there.  If  you  want  to  be  guarded  by  Jesus,  keep 
your  hearts  and  minds  close  to  Jesus.  Further,  the 
groimd  of  security  is  laid,  not  in  our  faith,  but  in  his 
faithfulness.  "  His  truth  " — that  is  to  say,  to  use  the 
old  word  which  expresses  the  idea  much  better,  "  His 
troth — shall  be  thy  shield  and  buckler."  The  ground 
of  our  conscious  security  is  laid  in  His  faithfulness  to  all 
His  promises. 

Now  is  all  this  true  ?  Is  it  true,  as  the  psalmist  goes 
on  to  portray  under  the  double  figure  of  battle  and  pesti- 
lence, that  the  man  who  thus  trusts  is  saved  from  wide- 


166  A    SONG    OF   FAITH 

spread  calamities,  wMcli  may  be  devastating  the  lives 
of  a  community  ?  If  we  look  on  the  sm-face  it  is  not  true. 
Those  that  "  dwell  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High  " 
will  die  of  an  epidemic,  cholera,  or  smallpox,  like  the  men 
beside  them,  that  have  no  such  abode.  Our  hearts 
have  often  risen  in  protest  against  such  promises  as  this 
of  my  text,  when  those  that  have  been  "  dwelling  in  the 
secret  place  of  the  most  High  "  have  been  stealthily 
snared  and  swept  away  from  us.  But,  for  all  that, 
brethren,  it  is  true ;  it  is  true.  For  suppose  two  men, 
one  a  Christian,  another  not,  both  of  them  suffering 
from  the  same  epidemic,  both  of  them  dying  from  it. 
Yet  the  difference  between  the  two  is  such  as  that  we 
may  confidently  say  of  the  one,  "  He  that  belie veth 
shall  never  die,"  and  of  the  other  that  he  has  died.  It 
is  irrelevant  to  talk  about  vaccination  being  a  better 
prophylactic  than  faith.  No  doubt  this  psalmist  was 
thinking  mainly  of  physical  life.  No  doubt,  also,  you 
and  I  have  better  means  of  interpreting  and  understand- 
ing Providence  and  its  dealings,  than  he  had,  and  for 
us  the  belief  that  they  who  "  dwell  in  the  secret  place  of 
the  Most  High  "  are  immune  from  death,  is  possible 
and  imperative,  after  a  fashion  far  nobler  and  better 
than  the  psalmist  could  have  dreamed. 

I  need  point  out  to  you  how  here,  beautifully  and 
picturesquely,  the  two  metaphors  of  battle  and  disease 
are  each  parted  into  their  two  halves,  one  expressive  of 
open,  and  the  other  of  secret,  assaults — "  the  pestilence 


A   SONG    OF   FAITH  167 

that  walketh  in  darkness  "  on  the  one  hand,  "  the  des- 
truction that  wasteth  at  noonday  "  on  the  other  ;  "  the 
terror  by  night,"  of  nocturnal  assaults  upon  a  defence- 
less camp,  on  the  one  hand,  and  "  the  arrow  that  flieth 
by  day,"  on  the  other.  Only  let  us  take  this  to  heart, 
that  all  manner  of  danger  and  assaults  are  included  in 
the  promise,  and  though  sense  seems  to  say  that  the 
promise  is  but  as  gossamer  seen  by  moonlight,  a  beauti- 
ful dream  with  no  substance  in  it ;  yet  a  deeper  perception 
of  the  reaHty  of  things  tells  us  that  to  the  hilt  it  is 
fulfilled,  and  that  they  who  dwell  in  God  shall  never 
see  death. 

There  follows,  according  to  the  rendering  which  I 
have  already  given,  the  glad  "  Yes  "  of  the  solitary  soul. 
"  For  Thou,  Lord,  art  my  Refuge."  That  utterance 
of  faith  is  even  more  condensed  than  was  the  former.  As 
we  have  seen,  the  initial  utterance  of  trust  brought  to 
the  psalmist's  consciousness  the  great  and  glorious 
promises  of  which  I  have  been  speaking.  When  they 
come  into  his  consciousness,  then  the  office  of  his  faith 
is  to  grasp  them.  He  has  only  the  cheque,  only  the 
draft ;  but  it  is  as  good  to  him  as  buUion.  "  For,"  says 
he — and  note  that  "  for  " — "  Thou,  Lord,  art  my  Re- 
fuge." That  is  to  say,  he  listens  to  all  the  preceding 
promises,  and  smiles  and  says,  "  Yes,  I  know  it  is  all 
true  ;  because  Thou  art  my  Refuge."  And  when  he 
says  that  he  is  thinking  both  of  God's  character  and  of 
his  own  faith.     Thou  art  my  Refuge  in  Thyself,  and 


168  A   SONG   OF   FAITH 

because  I  have  chosen  Thee  to  be  so.  When  there 
come  into  our  hearts  and  minds,  in  sequence  to  some 
poor  utterances  of  our  faith,  perhaps  in  an  hour  when 
our  hearts  are  very  sore  and  our  lives  very  dark,  these 
great  assurances  of  a  present  God  and  an  immortal  life, 
let  us  be  sure  that  our  faith  further  rises  to  grasp,  and 
say  Amen  to,  them,  rooting  itself  in  the  assurance  of 
what  God  is,  and  of  what  we  have  chosen  Him  to  be. 
Samuel  Rutherford  says  that  God's  promises  are  like 
the  boughs  of  a  tree  bending  over  a  river,  for  His  half- 
drowned  children  to  lay  hold  of.  Let  us  see  that,  when 
they  are  suggested  to  our  faith,  our  faith  grasps  them. 
There  follows  a  series  of  further  promises,  even 
greater  than  those  that  have  preceded.  "  There  shall 
no  evil  befall  thee,  neither  shall  any  plague  come  nigh 
thy  dweUing,"  or,  as  it  reads  in  the  original  "  thy  tent," 
suggesting  the  nomad  life.  We  have  two  houses ;  a 
vshifting  tent,  the  frail  structure  of  our  earthly  habita- 
tion, and  a  "  house  not  made  with  hands,  eternal  in  the 
heavens,"  which  is  God  Himself.  "  Because  thou  hast 
made  the  Most  High  thy  habitation  there  shall  no  evil 
.  .  .  come  nigh  thy  dwelling."  If  thou  dwell  in  God 
thou  dwellest  in  safety. 

Then  there  follow  other  promises  which  regard  the 
nomad,  not  as  in  his  tent,  but,  as  on  the  road  ;  promises 
that  he  shall  be  kept  in  all  his  ways,  promises  that  he 
shall  not  only  be  kept  in  his  ways,  but  that  on  angel's 
hands  he  shall  be  lifted  buoyant  and  safe  over  his  diffi- 


A   SONG    OF   FAITH  169 

culties,  and  promises  still  greater  than  these,  that  in 
his  conflict  he  shall  be  victor,  and  "  shall  tread  upon  the 
lion  and  the  adder,"  There  again  we  have  the  antithesis 
of  open  and  secret  hostility.  In  these  promises  of 
keeping  in  the  active  life,  of  buoying  over  difiiculties 
and  of  victory  over  enemies,  we  have  more  than  the 
preceding  promises  of  immunity  from  danger.  We  are 
here  on  the  verge  of  promises  as  to  spiritual  necessities 
and  conflicts,  and  are  being  assured  that  "  he  that  dwell- 
eth  in  the  secret  place  of  the  Most  High  "  may  continue 
there,  and  yet  be  trudging  along  the  rough  road  of  life  ; 
and  that,  if  we  thus  combine  the  inward  peace  of  com- 
munion, and  the  effort  of  active  life,  we  shall  "  be  kept 
in  our  ways,"  and  upheld  in  our  ways,  and  have  victory 
over  the  lurking  foes  that  would  wound  our  heel,  and 
the  open  enemies  that  would  rend  our  life. 

We  must  remember  Old  Testament  conditions  when 
we  read  Old  Testament  promises,  and  we  must  apply 
New  Testament  interpretations  to  Old  Testament  assur- 
ances. When  we  read  "  there  shall  no  evil  befall  thee," 
and  think  of  our  own  harassed,  tempest-tossed,  often 
sorrowful  lives,  and  broken,  solitary  hearts,  we  must 
learn  that  the  evil  that  educates  is  not  evil,  and  that 
the  chastening  of  the  Father's  hand  is  good ;  and  that 
nothing  that  brings  a  man  nearer  to  God  can  be  his 
enemy.  The  poison  is  wiped  off  the  arrow,  though  the 
arrow  may  mercifully  wound ;  and  the  evil  in  the  evil 
is  all  dissipated. 


170  A   SONG   OF   FAITH 

Lastly,  we  have 

III.     A  Deeper  Voice  Still. 
coming  in,  confirming  and  enlarging  all  these  promises. 

I  can  but  gather  up  these  final  utterances  in  a  few 
words.  God  Himself  speaks,  promising  deliverance 
consequent  upon  fixed  love.  "  Because  he  hath  set  his 
love  upon  Me,  therefore  will  I  deliver  him."  He  is  not 
going  to  fail  in  response  to  the  love  of  His  child's  heart. 
As  the  word  in  the  original  suggests,  when  a  poor  man 
presses  himself  close  up  against  the  Divine  breast,  as  a 
dog  might  against  his  master's  limbs,  or  as  one  that 
loves  might  clasp  close  to  himself  the  beloved,  then 
God  responds  to  the  desire  for  close  contact,  and 
through  such  contact  He  brings  deliverance. 

Further,  that  Divine  Voice  promises  elevation  con- 
sequent on  acquaintance  with  the  Divine  Character. 
"  I  will  set  him  on  high  " — ^high  above  all  the  weltering 
flood  of  evil,  that  washes  vainly  round  the  base  of  the 
clifE — "  because  he  hath  known  My  name."  Loving 
acquaintance  with  the  revealed  character  of  God  lifts  a 
man  above  earth  and  all  its  ills. 

Further,  there  is  the  promise  of  Divine  companion- 
ship consequent  on  sorrows.  "  I  will  be  with  him  in 
trouble."  Some  of  us  know  what  that  means,  how  we 
never  got  a  glimpse  of  God  until  earth  was  dark,  and 
how  when  a  devastating  flood,  as  it  seemed,  came  sweep- 
ing over  the  fair  gardens  of  our  lives,  we  found,  when  it 
had  gone  back,  that  it  had  left  fertility  such  as  we  had 


A    SONG    OF   FAITH  171 

never  before  been  capable  of.  Night  brings  the  dark- 
ness, and  darkness  brings  the  stars.  Trouble  rightly 
borne  brings  God,  and  any  flood  that  bears  Him  into 
my  soul,  can  be  only  a  flood  of  blessing. 

"  With  long  life  will  I  satisfy  him,  and  show  him  My 
salvation."  Again  I  say,  bring  New  Testament  inter- 
pretation to  Old  Testament  promises,  for  the  evolution 
of  God's  revelation  of  His  will  makes  it  wise  to  interpret 
the  imperfect  by  the  complete.  "  With  long  life  will  I 
satisfy  him,"  through  the  ages  of  eternity,  and  "  show 
him  My  salvation "  in  the  glories  of  an  immortal 
Ufe.  Brethren,  let  us  keep  the  conditions.  Let 
us  set  our  love  on  Him,  know  His  will,  call  upon 
Him  and  listen  for  His  answer,  dwell  in  the  secret  place 
of  the  Most  High,  and  He  will  fulfil  His  promises,  then 
no  evil  shall  befall  us,  but  our  earthly  life  will  be  filled 
with  good,  and  wiU  lead  on  to  the  more  perfect  mani- 
festations of  His  saving  power  through  the  ages  of  eter- 
nity. 


Forgiveness  and  Retribution 

Thou  wast  a  God  that  forgavest  them,  though  Thou  tookest 
venegeance  of  their  inventions. — Psalm  xcix.  8. 

WHEN  the  prophet  Isaiah  saw  the  great  vision 
which  called  him  to  service,  he  heard  from  the 
lips  of  the  seraphim  around  the  Throne  the  threefold 
ascription  of  praise  :  "  Holy  !  holy  !  holy  !  Lord  God 
of  hosts."  This  psalm  seems  to  be  an  echo  of  that 
heavenly  chorus,  for  it  is  divided  into  three  sections, 
each  of  which  closes  with  the  refrain,  "  He  is  holy," 
and  each  of  which  sets  forth  some  one  aspect  or  out- 
come of  that  Divine  hoHness.  In  the  first  part  the 
holiness  of  His  universal  dominion  is  celebrated ;  in 
the  second,  the  holiness  of  His  revelations  and  provi- 
dences to  Israel,  His  inheritance ;  in  the  third,  the 
holiness  of  His  dealings  with  them  that  call  upon  His 
name,  both  when  He  forgives  their  sins  and  when  He 
scourges  for  the  sins  that  He  has  forgiven. 

Two  remarks  of  an  expository  character  will  pre- 
pare th"  way  for  what  I  have  further  to  say.  The  first 
is  that  the  word  "though  '  in  my  text,  which  holds 


FORGIVENESS    AND    RETRIBUTION      173 

together  the  two  statements  that  it  contains,  is  com- 
mentary rather  than  translation.  For  the  original 
has  the  simple  "  and,"  and  the  difference  between  the 
two  renderings  is  this,  that  "  though  "  impUes  some 
real  or  apparent  contrariety  between  forgiveness  and 
taking  vengeance,  which  makes  their  co-existence 
remarkable,  whereas  "  and  "  lays  the  two  things  down 
side  by  side.  The  psalmist  simply  declares  that  they 
are  both  there,  and  puts  in  no  such  fine  distinction 
as  is  represented  by  the  words  "  though,"  or  "  but," 
or  "  yet."  To  me  it  seems  a  great  deal  more  eloquent 
in  its  simplicity  and  reticence  that  he  should  say : 
"  Thou  forgavest  them  and  tookest  vengeance,"  than 
that  he  should  say  "  Thou  forgavest  them  though 
Thou  tookest  vengeance." 

Then  there  is  another  point  to  be  noted,  viz.,  we 
must  not  import  into  that  word  "  vengeance,"  when 
it  is  applied  to  Divine  actions,  the  notions  which  cluster 
round  it  when  it  is  applied  to  ours.  For  in  its  general 
use  it  means  retaliation,  inflicted  at  the  bidding  of 
personal  enmity  or  passion.  But  there  are  no  turbid 
elements  of  that  sort  in  God.  His  retribution  is  a 
great  deal  more  analogous  to  the  unimpassioned,  im- 
personal action  of  public  law  than  it  is  to  the  "  wild 
justice  of  revenge."  When  we  speak  of  His  "  ven- 
geance "  we  simply  mean — unless  we  have  dropped 
into  a  degrading  superstition — the  just  recompense 
of  reward  which  divinely  dogs  all  sin.     There  is  one 


174      FORGIVENESS   AND    RETRIBUTION 

saying  in  Scripture  which  puts  the  whole  matter  in 
its  true  light,  "  Vengeance  is  Mine ;  I  will  repay," 
saith  the  Lord  ;  the  last  clause  of  which  interprets  the 
first.  So,  then,  with  these  elucidations,  we  may  perhaps 
see  a  Httle  more  clearly  the  sequence  of  the  psalmist's 
thought  here — God's  forgiveness ;  and,  co-existing 
with  that,  God's  scourging  of  the  sin  which  He  for- 
gives ;  and  both  His  forgiveness  and  the  scourging, 
the  efflux  and  the  manifestation  of  the  Divine  holiness. 
Now  just  let  us  look  at  these  thoughts. 

Here  we  have 

I.  The  Adoring  Contemplation  of  the  Divine 
Forgiveness. 

I  suppose  that  is  almost  exclusively  a  thought  due 
to  the  historical  revelation,  through  the  ages,  to  Israel, 
and  crowned,  as  well  as  deepened,  by  the  culmination 
and  perfecting  of  the  eternal  revelation  of  God  in  Jesus 
Christ  our  Lord.  I  suppose  the  conception  of  a  for- 
giving God  is  the  product  of  the  Old  and  of  the  New 
Testament.  But  familiar  as  the  word  is  to  us,  and 
although  the  thing  that  it  means  is  embodied  in  the 
creed  of  Christendom,  "  I  beheve  ...  in  the  for- 
giveness of  sins,"  I  think  that  a  great  many  of  us  would 
be  somewhat  put  to  it,  if  we  were  called  upon  to  tell 
definitely  and  clearly  what  we  mean  when  we  talk 
about  the  forgiveness  of  sins.  Many  of  us,  prior  to 
thinking  about  the  matter,  would  answer  "  the  non- 
infliction   or  remission   of   penalty."    And   I   am   far 


FORGIVENESS   AND   RETRIBUTION      175 

from  denying  that  that  is  an  element  in  forgiveness, 
although  it  is  the  lowest  and  the  most  external,  in 
both  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New  Testament  con- 
ception of  it.  But  we  must  rise  a  great  deal  higher 
than  that.  We  are  entitled,  by  our  Lord's  teaching, 
to  parallel  God's  forgiveness  and  man's  forgiveness ; 
and  so  perhaps  the  best  way  to  understand  the  perfect 
type  of  forgiveness  is  to  look  at  the  imperfect  types 
which  we  see  round  us.  What,  then,  do  we  mean  by 
human  forgiveness  ?  It  is  seen  in  multitudes  of  cases 
where  there  is  no  question  at  all  of  penalty.  Two 
men  get  alienated  from  one  another.  One  of  them 
does  something  which  the  other  thinks  is  a  sin  against 
friendship  or  loyalty,  and  he  who  is  sinned  against 
says,  "  I  forgive  you."  That  does  not  mean  that  he 
does  not  inflict  a  penalty,  because  there  is  no  penalty 
in  question.  Forgiveness  is  not  a  matter  of  conduct, 
then,  primarily,  but  it  is  a  matter  of  disposition,  of 
attitude  ;  or,  to  put  it  into  a  shorter  word,  it  is  a  matter 
of  the  heart,  and  even  on  the  lower  level  of  the  human 
type,  we  see  that  remission  of  penalty  may  be  a  part, 
sometimes  is  and  sometimes  is  not,  but  is  always  the 
smallest  part  of  it,  and  a  derivative  and  secondary 
result  of  something  that  went  before.  An  unconscious 
recognition  of  this  attitude  of  mind  and  heart,  as  being 
the  essential  thing  in  forgiveness,  brings  about  an 
instance  of  the  process  by  which  two  words  that  origin- 
ally mean  substantially  the  same  thing  come  to  acquire 


176      FORGIVENESS   AND    RETRIBUTION 

each  its  special  shade  of  meaning.  What  I  refer  to 
is  this — when  a  judicial  sentence  on  a  criminal  is  re- 
mitted, we  never  hear  any  one  speak  about  the  criminal 
being  "  forgiven."  We  keep  the  word  "  pardon,"  in 
our  daily  conventional  intercourse,  for  slight  offences 
or  for  the  judicial  remission  of  a  sentence.  The  King 
pardons  a  criminal ;  you  never  hear  about  the  King 
"  forgiving "  a  criminal.  And  that,  as  I  take  it,  is 
just  because  people  have  been  groping  after  the  thought 
that  I  am  trying  to  bring  out,  viz.,  that  the  remission 
of  penalty  is  one  thing,  and  purging  the  heart  of  all 
aUenation  and  hatred  is  another ;  and  that  the  latter 
is  forgiveness,  whilst  the  former  has  to  be  content 
with  being  pardon. 

The  highest  type  of  forgiveness  is  the  paternal. 
Every  one  of  us  that  remembers  our  childhood,  and 
every  one  of  us  who  has  had  children  of  his  own,  knows 
what  paternal  forgiveness  is.  It  is  not  when  you  put 
away  the  rod  that  the  little  face  brightens  again  and 
the  tears  cease  to  flow,  but  it  is  when  your  face  clears, 
and  the  child  knows  that  there  is  no  cloud  between 
it  and  the  father,  or  still  more  the  mother,  that  for- 
giveness is  realized.  The  immediate  effect  of  our 
transgressions  is  that  we,  as  it  were,  thereby  drop  a 
great,  black  rock  into  the  stream  of  the  Divine  love, 
and  the  channel  is  barred  by  our  action ;  and  God's 
forgiveness  is  when,  as  was  the  case  in  another  fashion 
in  the    Deluge,  the  floods  rise  above  the  tops  of   the 


FORGIVENESS    AND    RETRIBUTION      177 

highest  hills ;  and  as  the  good  old  hymn  that  has 
gone  out  of  fashion  nowadays,  says,  over  sins: 

"...  Like  the  mountains  for  their  size, 
The  seas  of  sovereign  grace  arise.  ..." 

When  the  love  of  God  flows  over  the  black  rock,  as  the 
incoming  tide  does  over  some  jagged  reef,  then,  and 
not  merely  when  the  rod  is  put  on  the  shelf,  is  for- 
giveness bestowed  and  received. 

But,  as  I  have  said,  the  remission  of  penalty  is  an 
element  in  forgiveness.  Some  people  say :  "  It  is 
a  very  dangerous  thing,  in  the  interests  of  Christian 
truth,  to  treat  that  relation  of  a  loving  Father  as  if 
it  expressed  all  that  God  is  to  men."  Quite  so  ;  God 
is  King  as  well  as  Father.  There  are  analogies,  both 
in  paternal  and  regal  government,  which  help  us  to 
understand  the  Divine  dealings  with  us ;  though,  of 
course,  in  regard  to  both  we  must  always  remember 
that  the  analogies  are  remote  and  not  to  be  pressed 
too  far.  But  even  in  recognizing  the  fact  that  an 
integral  part  of  forgiveness  is  remission  of  penalty, 
we  come  back,  by  another  path,  to  the  same  point, 
that  the  essence  of  forgiveness  is  the  uninterrupted 
flow  of  love.  Remission  of  penalty ; — yes,  by  all 
means.  But  then  .the  question  comes,  what  is  the 
penalty  of  sin  ?  And  I  suppose  that  the  deepest 
answer  to  that  is,  separation  from  God.  But  if  the 
true   New   Testament   conception   of   the   penalty   of 

M.S.  12 


178      FORGIVENESS    AND    RETRIBUTION 

sin  is  the  eternal  death  which  is  the  result  of  the  rend- 
ing of  a  man  away  from  the  Som^ce  of  life,  then  the 
remission  of  the  penalty  is  precisely  identical  with 
the  uninterrupted  flow  of  the  Divine  love.  The  mists 
of  autumnal  mornings  drape  the  sky  in  gloom,  and 
turn  the  blessed  sun  itself  into  a  lurid  ball  of  fire.  Sweep 
away  the  mists,  and  its  rays  again  pour  out  beneficence. 
The  man  that  sins,  piles  up,  as  it  were,  a  cloud-bank 
between  himself  and  God,  and  forgiveness,  which  is 
the  remission  of  the  penalty,  is  the  sweeping  away 
of  the  cloud-bank,  and  the  pouring  out  of  sunshine 
upon  a  darkened  heart.  So,  brethren,  the  essence 
of  forgiveness  is  that  God  shall  love  me  all  the  same, 
though  I  sin  against  Him. 

But  now  turn,  in  the  next  place,  to 

II.  God's  Scourging  of  the  Sin  which  He 
Forgives. 

Look,  at  the  instances  in  our  psalm,  "Moses  and 
Aaron  among  His  priests.  .  .  .  They  called  upon 
the  Lord  and  He  answered  them.  Thou  wast  a  God 
that  forgavest  them,  and  Thou  tookest  vengeance 
of  their  doings."  Moses  dies  on  Pisgah,  Aaron  is 
stripped  of  his  priestly  robes  by  his  brother's  hand, 
and  left  alone  amongst  the  clouds  and  the  eagles,  on 
the  solitary  summit  of  the  mountain,  and  yet  Moses 
and  Aaron  knew  themselves  forgiven  the  sins  for 
which  they  died  those  lonely  deaths.  And  these  are 
but  instances  of  what  is  universally  true,  that  the  sin 


FORGIVENESS    AND    RETRIBUTION      179 

which  is  pardoned  is  also  "  avenged,"  in  the  sense  of 
having  retribution  dealt  out  to  it. 

I  need  not  dwell  upon  this  at  any  length,  but  let 
me  just  remind  you  how  there  are  two  provinces  of 
human  experience  in  which  this  is  abundantly  true  : 
one,  that  of  outward  consequences,  and  another  that  of 
inward  consequences.  Take,  for  instance,  two  men, 
boon  companions,  who  together  have  wasted  their  sub- 
stance in  riotous  Hving.  One  of  them  is  converted, 
as  we  call  it,  becomes  a  Christian,  knows  himself  for- 
given. The  other  one  is  not.  Is  the  one  less  certain 
to  have  a  corrugated  liver  than  the  other  ?  Will  the 
disease,  the  pauperism,  the  ruined  position  in  life,  the 
loss  of  reputation,  be  any  different  in  the  cases  of  the 
man  who  is  pardoned  and  of  the  man  who  is  not  ? 
No,  the  two  will  suffer  in  a  similar  fashion,  and  the 
different  attitude  that  the  one  has  to  the  Divine  love 
from  that  which  the  other  has,  will  not  make  a  hair 
of  difference  as  to  the  results  that  follow.  The  conse- 
quences are  none  the  less  Divine  retribution  because 
they  are  the  result  of  natural  laws,  and  none  the  less 
penal  because  they  are  automatically  inflicted. 

There  is  another  department  in  which  we  see  the 
same  law  working,  and  that  is  the  inward  consequences. 
A  man  does  change  his  attitude  to  his  former  sins, 
when  he  knows  that  he  is  pardoned ;  but  the  results 
of  these  sins  will  follow  all  the  same,  whether  he  is 
forgiven   or   not.     Memory   will   be   tarnished,    habits 


180      FORGIVENESS   AND    RETRIBUTION 

will  be  formed  and  chain  a  man,  capacities  will  be 
forfeited,  weaknesses  will  ensue.  The  wounds  may  be 
healed,  but  the  scars  will  remain,  and  when  we  con- 
sider how  certainly,  and,  as  I  said,  divinely,  such  issues 
dog  all  manner  of  transgression,  we  can  understand 
what  the  Psalmist  meant  when,  not  thinking  about 
a  future  retribution,  but  about  the  present  life's  ex- 
periences, he  said,  "  Thou  wast  a  God  that  forgavest 
them,  and  Thou  tookest  vengeance  of  their  inven- 
tions." "  The  sluggard  will  not  plough  by  reason 
of  the  cold,  therefore  shall  he  beg  in  harvest,  and  have 
n  thing,"  and  that  will  be  his  case  whether  he  is  for- 
given, or  not  forgiven,  by  the  Divine  love. 

So,  dear  friends,  do  not  let  us  confound  the  two 
things  which  are  so  widely  separated,  the  flow  of  the 
Divine  love  to  us  irrespective  of  our  sins,  which  is 
the  true  forgiveness,  and  the  remission  of  the  penalty, 
the  infliction  of  which  may  itself  be  a  part  of  forgive- 
ness. "  Whatsoever  a  man  soweth  that  shall  he  also 
reap,"  and  he  will  reap  it  whether  he  has  sown  darnel 
and  tares  an  1  poisonous  seeds,  of  which  he  is  now 
ashamed,  and  for  which  he  has  received  forgiveness, 
or  whether  he  has  not  asked  nor  received  it. 

Only  remember  that,  if  we  humbly  reahze  the  great 
fact  that  God  has  forgiven  us,  we  can,  as  they  say, 
"  take  our  punishment "  in  an  altogether  different 
spirit  and  temper,  and  it  comes  to  be,  not  judicial 
penalty,  but  paternal  chastisement,  the  token  of  love, 


FORGIVENESS    AND   RETRIBUTION      181 

and  of  which  we  can  say  that  "  we  are  judged  of  the 
Lord,  that  we  should  not  be  condemned  with  the  world." 

Lastly,  my  text  leads  us  to  think  of — 

III.  Forgiveness  and  Scourging  as  Both  Issues 
OF  Holy  Love. 

Some  people,  in  their  narrow  and  altogether  external 
view  of  Christianity,  would  divide  between  the  two, 
and  say  forgiveness  comes  from  God' s  love,  and  scourg- 
ing comes  from  His  hohness.  But  this  psalm  puts  the 
two  together,  just  as  we  must  put  together  as  insepar- 
able from  each  other  the  two  conceptions  of  hohness 
and  of  love.  Now  our  modern  notions  of  what  is 
meant  by  the  love  of  God  are  a  great  deal  too  senti- 
mental and  gushing  and  limp.  Love  is  degraded 
unless  there  be  hohness  in  it.  It  becomes  immoral 
good  nature,  much  more  than  anything  that  deserves 
the  name  of  love.  A  God  Who  is  all  love,  so  much 
so  that  it  makes  no  difference  to  Him  whether  a  man 
is  a  saint  or  a  sinner,  is  not  a  God  to  be  worshipped, 
and  scarcely  a  God  to  be  admired.  He  is  lower  than 
we,  not  higher.  But  His  holy  love  is  like  a  sea  of 
glass  mingled  with  fire ;  the  love  being  shot  all  through, 
as  it  were,  with  streams  of  flame. 

This  holy  Love  underHes  the  forgiveness  of  sins. 
To  forgive  may  sometimes  be  profoundly  right;  it 
may  sometimes  be  profoundly  immoral.  A  general 
gaol  delivery  simply  sets  the  scoundrels  free  ;  a  uni- 
versal amnesty  is  a  failure  of  justice,  and  a  very  doubtful 


182      FORGIVENESS   AND    RETRIBUTION 

benefit.  But  the  forgiveness,  which  is  the  issue  of 
holy  love,  is  a  means  to  an  end,  and  the  end  which  it 
has  in  view  is  that,  drawn  by  answering  love  to  a  par- 
doning God,  we  may  be  drawn  from  the  sins  which 
alienate  us  from  Him.  There  is  no  such  sure  way 
of  making  a  man  forsake  his  sins  as  to  give  him  the 
assurance  that  God  has  forgiven  them.  "  Thou  shalt 
be  ashamed  and  confounded,  and  never  open  thy 
mouth  any  more,  because  of  thy  sins,  when  " — I  smite  ? 
no — "  I  am  pacified  towards  thee  for  all  that  thou  hast 
done."  "  Thou  wast  a  God  that  forgavest  them," 
and  in  the  very  act  of  forgiveness,  didst  draw  them 
from  their  sins. 

That  holy  love,  in  like  manner,  underlies  retribution. 
I  have  been  speaking  of  that  retribution  mainly  as 
it  is  seen  by  the  working  of  natural  law.  It  is  none  the 
less  God's  act,  because  it  is  the  operation  of  the  laws 
which  He  impressed  upon  His  creation  at  the  begin- 
ning. You  have  weaving  machines  in  your  mills  that 
whenever  a  thread  breaks,  stop  dead.  Is  it  the  machine 
or  the  maker  that  is  to  get  the  credit  of  that  ?  God 
has  set  us  in  an  order  of  things  wherein,  and  has  given 
us  a  nature  whereby,  automatically,  every  sin,  as  it 
were,  stops  the  loom,  and  "every  transgression  and 
disobedience  receives  its  just  recompense  of  reward." 
But  men  sometimes  say  "  that  is  Nature ;  that  is  not 
God."  God  lies  at  the  back  of  Nature,  and  works 
through  Nature.     Although  Nature  is   not   God,  God 


FORGIVENESS   AND    RETRIBUTION      183 

is  Nature.  Therefore,  it  is  "  Thou "  that  "  takest 
vengeance  of  their  inventions."  Let  us,  then,  re- 
member that  retribution  is  a  token  of  love,  meant  to 
drive  us  from  our  sins,  just  as  forgiveness  is  meant 
to  draw  us  from  them.  Our  Psalmist  had  come  the 
length  of  putting  these  two  things  together,  forgive- 
ness and  retribution.  We  have  reached  further,  and 
here  is  the  New  Testament  enlargement  and  deepen- 
ing and  explanation  of  the  Old  Testament  thought : 
"  If  we  confess  our  sins  He  is  faithful  and  just  to 
forgive  us  our  sins,"  and,  in  the  very  act,  "  to  cleanse 
us  from  all  unrighteousness."  "  If  any  man  sin,  we 
have  an  Advocate  with  the  Father,  Jesus  Christ  the 
Righteous." 


Saints,   Believers,   Brethren 

.  .  .  The  saints  and  faithful  brethren  in  Christ. — Col.  i.  2. 

"  'T^HE  disciples  were  called  Christians  first  in 
-L  Antioch,"  says  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles.  It 
was  a  name  given  by  outsiders,  and  like  most  of  the 
instances  where  a  sect,  or  school,  or  party  is  labelled 
with  the  name  of  its  fomider,  it  was  given  in  scorn.  It 
hit,  and  yet  missed,  its  mark.  The  early  believers  were 
Christians,  that  is,  Christ's  men,  but  they  were  not 
merely  a  group  of  followers  of  a  man,  like  many  other 
groups  of  whom  the  Empire  at  that  time  was  full.  So 
they  never  used  that  name  themselves.  It  occurs 
twice  only  in  Scripture,  once  when  King  Agrippa  was 
immensely  amused  at  the  audacity  of  Paul  in  thinking 
that  he  would  easily  make  "  a  Christian  "  of  him ; 
and  once  when  Peter  speaks  of  "  suffering  as  a  Chris- 
tian," where  he  is  evidently  quoting,  as  it  were,  the 
indictment  on  which  the  early  believers  were  tried  and 
punished.     What  did  they  call  themselves  then  ? 


SAINTS.  BELIEVERS,  BRETHREN        185 

I  have  chosen  this  text  not  for  the  purpose  of  speak- 
ing about  it  only,  but  because  it  gathers  together  in 
brief  compass  the  three  principal  designations  by  which 
the  early  beUevers  knew  themselves.  "  Saints  " — that 
tells  their  relation  to  God,  as  well  as  their  character, 
for  it  means  "  consecrated,"  set  apart  for  Him,  and 
therefore  pure;  "faithful" — that  means  "full  of 
faith "  and  is  substantially  equivalent  to  the  usual 
"  behevers,"  which  defines  their  relation  to  Jesus 
Christ  as  the  Revealer  of  God ;  "  brethren " — that 
defines  their  relation  and  sentiment  towards  their 
fellows.  These  terms  go  a  great  deal  deeper  than  the 
nickname  which  the  wits  of  Antioch  invented.  The 
members  of  the  Church  were  not  content  with  the 
vague  "  Christian,"  but  they  called  themselves  "  saints," 
"  behevers,"  "  brethren."  One  designation  does  not 
appear  here,  which  we  must  take  into  account  for 
completeness :  the  earliest  of  all — disciples.  Now,  I 
purpose  to  bring  together  these  four  names,  by  which 
the  early  behevers  thought  and  spoke  of  themselves,  in 
order  to  point  the  lessons  as  to  our  position  and  our 
duty,  which  are  wrapped  up  in  them.  And  I  may  just 
say  that,  perhaps,  it  is  no  sign  of  advance  that  the 
church,  as  years  rolled  on,  accepted  the  world's  name 
for  itself,  and  that  people  found  it  easier  to  call  them- 
selves "  Christians  " — which  did  not  mean  very  much 
— than  to  call  themselves  "  saints  "  or  "  believers." 

Now  then,  to  begin  with, 


186         SAINTS,  BELIEVERS,  BRETHREN 

I.  They  Were  "  Disciples  "  First  of  All 
The  facts  as  to  the  use  of  that  name  are  very  plain, 
and  as  instructive  as  they  are  plain.  It  is  a  standing 
designation  in  the  Gospels,  both  in  the  mouths  of  friends 
and  of  outsiders  ;  it  is  sometimes,  though  very  sparingly, 
employed  by  Jesus  Christ  Himself.  It  persists  on 
through  the  book  of  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  then 
it  stops  dead,  and  we  never  hear  it  again. 

Now  its  existence  at  first,  and  its  entire  abandon- 
ment afterwards,  both  seem  to  me  to  carry  very  valuable 
lessons.  Let  me  try  to  work  them  out.  Of  course, 
"  disciple  "  or  "  scholar  "  has  for  its  correlative — as  the 
logicians  call  it — "  teacher."  And  so  we  find  that  as 
the  original  adherents  of  Jesus  called  themselves 
"  disciples,"  they  addressed  Him  as  "  Master,"  which 
is  the  equivalent  of  "  Rabbi."  That  at  once  suggests 
the  thought  that  to  themselves,  and  to  the  people  that 
saw  the  origination  of  the  little  Christian  community, 
the  Lord  and  His  handful  of  followers  seemed  just  to  be 
like  John  and  his  disciples,  the  Pharisees  and  their 
disciples,  and  many  another  Rabbi  and  his  knot  of 
admiring  adherents.  Therefore  whilst  the  name  was 
in  one  view  fitting,  it  was  conspicuously  inadequate, 
and  as  time  went  on,  and  the  Church  became  more 
conscious  of  the  uniqueness  of  the  bond  that  knit  it  to 
Jesus  Christ,  it  instinctively  dropped  the  name 
"  disciple,"  and  substituted  others  more  intimate  and 
worthy; 


SAINTS,  BELIEVERS,  BRETHREN        187 

But  yet  it  remains  permanently  true,  that  Christ's 
followers  are  Christ's  scholars,  and  that  He  is  their 
Rabbi  and  Teacher.  Only  the  peculiarity,  the  absolute 
uniqueness,  of  His  attitude  and  action  as  a  Teacher 
lies  in  two  things  :  one,  that  His  main  subject  was  Him- 
self, as  He_said,  "  I  am  the  Truth,"  and  consequently 
His  characteristic  demand  from  His  scholars  was  not, 
as  with  other  teachers,  "  Accept  this,  that,  or  the  other 
doctrine  which  I  propound,"  but  "  Believe  in  Me  "  ; 
and  the  other,  that  He  seldom  if  ever  argues,  or  draws 
conclusions  from  previous  premises,  that  He  never 
speaks  as  if  He  Himself  had  learnt  and  fought  His  way 
to  what  He  is  saying,  or  betrays  uncertainty,  limitation, 
or  growth  in  His  opinions,  and  that  for  all  confirmation 
of  His  declarations.  He  appeals  only  to  the  light  within 
and  to  His  own  authority :  "  Verily,  verily,  I  say  unto 
you."  No  wonder  that  the  common  people  were 
astonished  at  His  teaching,  and  felt  that  there  was  an 
authority  in  it  which  the  wearisome  citations  of  what 
Rabbi  So-and-So  had  said,  altogether  lacked. 

That  teaching  abides  still,  and,  as  I  beUeve,  opens 
out  into,  and  is  our  source  of,  all  that  we  know — in 
distinction  and  contrast  from,  "  imagine,"  "  hope," 
"  fear  " — of  God,  and  of  ourselves,  and  of  the  future. 
It  casts  the  clearest  Hght  on  morals  for  the  individual 
and  on  poUtics  for  the  community.  Whatever  men  may 
say  about  Christianity  being  effete,  it  will  not  be  effete 
till  the  world  has  leamt  and  absorbed  the  teaching  oi 


188        SAINTS,  BELIEVERS,  BRETHREN 

Jesus  Christ;  and  we  are  a  good  long  way  from  that 
yet! 

If  He  is  thus  the  Teacher,  the  perpetual  Teacher, 
and  the  only  Teacher,  of  mankind  in  regard  to  all  these 
high  things  about  God  and  man  and  the  relation  be- 
tween them,  about  life  and  death  and  the  world,  and 
about  the  practice  and  conduct  of  the  individual 
and  of  the  community,  then  we,  if  we  are  His  disciples, 
build  houses  on  the  rock,  in  the  degree  in  which  we 
not  only  hear  but  do  the  things  that  He  commands. 
For  this  Teacher  is  no  theoretical  handler  of  abstract 
propositions,  but  the  authoritative  imposer  of  the  law 
of  life,  and  all  His  words  have  a  direct  bearing  upon 
conduct.  Therefore  it  is  vain  for  us  to  say  :  "  Lord, 
Lord,  Thou  hast  taught  in  our  streets  and  we  have 
accepted  Thy  teaching."  He  looks  down  upon  us  from 
the  Throne,  as  He  looked  upon  the  disciples  in  that 
upper  room,  and  He  says  to  each  of  us :  "If  ye  know 
these  things,  happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them." 

But  the  complete  disappearance  of  the  name  as  the 
development  of  the  Church  advanced,  brings  with  it 
another  lesson,  and  that  is,  that  precious  and  great  as 
are  the  gifts  which  Jesus  Christ  bestows  as  a  Teacher, 
and  unique  as  His  act  and  attitude  in  that  respect  are, 
the  name  either  of  teacher  or  of  disciple  fails  altogether 
to  penetrate  to  the  essence  of  the  relation  which  knits 
us  together.  It  is  not  enough  for  our  needs  that  we 
shall  be  taught.     The  worst  man  in  the  world  knows  a 


SAINTS,  BELIEVERS,  BRETHREN        189 

far  nobler  morality  than  the  best  man  practices.  And 
if  it  were  true,  as  some  people  superficially  say  is 
the  case,  that  evil-doing  is  the  result  of  ignorance, 
there  would  be  far  less  evil-doing  in  the  world  than, 
alas !  there  is.  It  is  not  for  the  want  of  knowing, 
that  we  go  wrong,  as  our  consciences  tell  us ;  but  it 
is  for  want  of  something  that  can  conquer  the  evil 
tendencies  Avithin,  and  lift  off  the  burden  of  a  sinful  past 
which  weighs  on  us.  As  in  the  carboniferous  strata 
what  was  pUant  vegetation  has  become  heavy  mineral, 
our  evil  deeds  he  heavy  on  our  souls.  What  we  need 
is  not  to  be  told  what  we  ought  to  be,  but  to  be  enabled 
to  be  it.  Electricity  can  hght  the  road,  and  it  can  drive 
the  car  along  it ;  and  that  is  what  we  want,  a  dynamic 
as  weU  as  an  illuminant,  something  that  will  make  us 
able  to  do  and  to  be  what  conscience  has  told  us  we 
ought  to  be  and  do. 

Teacher?  Yes.  But  if  only  teacher,  then  He  is 
nothing  more  than  one  of  a  multitude  who  in  all  genera- 
tions have  vainly  witnessed  to  sinful  men  of  the  better 
path.  There  is  no  reformation  for  the  individual,  and 
little  hope  for  humanity,  in  a  Christ  whom  you  degrade 
to  the  level  of  a  Rabbi,  or  in  a  Church  which  has  not 
pressed  nearer  to  Him  than  to  feel  itself  His  disciples. 
There  was  a  man  who  came  to  Jesus  by  night,  and 
was  in  the  dark  about  the  Jesus  to  Whom  he  came, 
and  he  said,  "  We  know  that  Thou  art  a  Teacher  come 
from  God."    But  Jesus  did  not  accept  the  witness, 


190        SAINTS,  BELIEVERS,  BRETHREN 

though  a  young  teacher  fighting  for  recognition  might 
have  been  glad  to  get  it  from  an  authoritative  member 
of  the  Sanhedrim.  But  He  answered,  "Except  a  man 
be  born  again,  he  cannot  see  the  Kingdom  of  God."  If 
we  need  to  be  born  again  before  we  see  it,  it  is  not 
teachers  of  it  that  will  serve  our  turn,  but  One  Who 
takes  us  by  the  hand,  and  translates  us  out  of  the 
tyranny  of  the  darkness  into  the  Kingdom  of  the  Son 
of  God's  love.  So  much,  then,  for  the  first  of  these 
names  and  its  lessons. 

Now  turn  to  the  second — 

II.    The  Disciples  must  be  Believers. 

That  name  begins  to  appear  almost  immediately 
after  Pentecost,  and  continues  throughout.  It  comes 
in  two  forms,  one  which  is  in  my  text,  "  the  faithful," 
meaning  thereby  not  the  reliable,  but  the  people  that 
are  fuU  of  faith ;  the  other,  meaning  the  same  thing, 
they  who  beheve,  the  "  believers."  The  Church  found 
that  "  disciple "  was  not  enough.  It  went  deeper ; 
and,  with  a  true  instinct,  laid  hold  of  the  unique  bond 
which  knits  men  to  their  Lord  and  Saviour.  That  name 
indicates  that  Jesus  Christ  appears  to  the  man  who  has 
faith  in  a  new  character.  He  is  not  any  longer  the 
Teacher  who  is  to  be  listened  to,  but  He  is  the  Object 
of  trust.  And  that  implies  the  recognition,  first,  of  His 
Divinity,  which  alone  is  strong  enough  to  bear  up  the 
weight  of  millions  of  souls  leaning  hard  upon  it ;  and, 
second,  of  what  He  has  done  and  not  merely  of  what 


SAINTS,  BELIEVERS,  BRETHREN        191 

He  has  said.  We  accept  the  Teacher's  word ;  we  trust 
the  Saviour's  Cross.  And  in  the  measure  in  which  men 
learned  that  the  centre  of  the  work  of  the  Rabbi  Jesus 
was  the  death  of  the  Incarnate  Son  of  God,  their 
docility  was  sublimed  into  faith. 

That  faith  is  the  real  bond  that  knits  men  to  Jesus 
Christ.  We  are  united  to  Him,  and  become  recipient 
of  the  gifts  that  He  has  to  bestow,  by  no  sacraments, 
by  no  externals,  by  no  reverential  admiration  of  His 
supreme  wisdom  and  perfect  beauty  of  character,  not 
by  assuming  the  attitude  of  the  disciple,  but  by  flinging 
our  whole  selves  upon  Him,  because  He  is  our  Saviour. 
That  unites  us  to  Jesus  Christ ;  nothing  else  does. 
Faith  is  the  opening  of  the  heart,  by  which  all  His 
power  can  be  poured  into  us.  It  is  the  grasping  of  His 
hand,  by  which,  even  though  the  cold  waters  be  above 
our  knees  and  be  rising  to  our  hearts,  we  are  Ufted  above 
them  and  they  are  made  a  solid  pavement  for  our  feet. 
Faith  is  the  door  opened  by  ourselves,  and  through 
which  will  come  all  the  Glory  that  dwelt  between  the 
cherubim,  and  will  fill  the  secret  place  in  our  hearts. 
To  be  the  disciple  of  a  Rabbi  is  something ;  to  be  the 
"  faithful  "  dependent  on  the  Saviour  is  to  be  His  indeed. 

And  then  there  is  to  be  remembered,  further,  that 
this  bond,  which  is  the  only  vital  link  between  a  man 
and  Christ,  is  therefore  the  basis  of  all  virtue,  of  all 
nobihty,  of  all  beauty  of  conduct,  and  that  "  whatsoever 
things  are  lovely  and  of  good  report "  are  its  natural 


192        SAINTS,  BELIEVERS,  BRETHREN 

efflorescence  and  fruit.  And  so  that  leads  us  to  the  third 
point — 

III.     The  Believing  Disciple  is  a  "  Saint." 

That  name  does  not  appear  in  the  Gospels,  but  it 
begins  to  show  in  the  Acts  of  the  Apostles,  and  it  becomes 
extremely  common  throughout  the  Epistles  of  Paul. 
He  had  no  hesitation  in  calling  the  very  imperfect 
disciples  in  Corinth  by  this  great  name.  He  was  going 
to  rebuke  them  for  some  very  grave  offences,  not  only 
against  Christian  elevation  of  conduct,  but  against 
common  pagan  morality  ;  but  he  began  by  calling  them 
"  saints." 

What  is  a  saint  ?  First  and  foremost,  a  man  who  has 
given  himself  to  God,  and  is  consecrated  thereby. 
Whoever  has  cast  himself  on  Christ,  and  has  taken 
Christ  for  his,  therein  and  in  the  same  degree  as  he  is 
exercising  faith,  has  thus  yielded  himself  to  God.  If 
your  faith  has  not  led  you  to  such  a  consecration  of 
will  and  heart  and  self,  you  had  better  look  out  and 
see  whether  it  is  faith  at  all.  But  then,  because  faith 
involves  the  consecration  of  a  man  to  God,  and  con- 
secration necessarily  implies  purity,  since  nothing  can 
be  laid  on  God's  altar  which  is  not  sanctified  thereby, 
the  name  of  saint  comes  to  imply  purity  of  character. 
Sanctity  is  the  Christian  word  which  means  the  very 
flower  and  fragrant  aroma  of  what  the  world  calls 
virtue. 

But  sanctity  is  not  emotion.     A  man  may  luxuriate 


SAINTS,  BELIEVERS,  BRETHREN        193 

in  devout  feeling,  and  sing  and  praise  and  pray,  and  be 
very  far  from  being  a  saint ;  and  there  is  a  great  deal  of 
the  emotional  Christianity  of  this  day  which  has  a 
strange  affinity  for  the  opposite  of  saintship.  Sanctity 
is  not  aloofness.  "  There  were  saints  in  Caesar's  house- 
hold " — a  very  unlikely  place  ;  they  were  flowers  on  a 
dunghill,  and  perhaps  their  blossoms  were  all  the 
brighter  because  of  what  they  grew  on,  and  which  they 
could  transmute  from  corruption  into  beauty.  So 
sanctity  is  no  blue  ribbon  of  the  Christian  profession, 
to  be  given  to  a  few  select  (and  mostly  ascetic)  speci- 
mens of  consecration,  but  it  is  the  designation  of  each 
of  us,  if  we  are  disciples  who  are  more  than  disciples, 
that  is,  "  behevers."  And  thus,  brethren,  we  have  to 
see  to  it  that,  in  our  own  cases,  our  faith  leads  to  sur- 
render, and  our  self-surrender  to  purity  of  Ufe  and 
conduct.  Faith,  if  real,  brings  sanctity ;  sanctity,  if 
real,  is  progressive.  Sanctity,  though  imperfect,  may 
be  real. 
IV.  The  Believing  Saints  are  "  Brethren." 
That  is  the  name  that  predominates  over  all  others 
in  the  later  portions  of  the  New  Testament,  and  it  is 
very  natural  that  it  should  do  so.  It  reposes  upon  and 
impUes  the  three  preceding.  Its  rapid  adoption  and 
universal  use  express  touchingly  the  wonder  of  the 
early  Church  at  its  own  unity.  The  then  world  was 
rent  asunder  by  deep  clefts  of  misunderstanding,  ahena- 
tion,   animosity,   racial   divisions   of  Jew   and   Greek, 

M.S.  13 


194        SAINTS,  BELIEVERS,  BRETHREN 

Parthian,  Scythian ;  by  sexual  divisions  which  flung 
men  and  women,  who  ought  to  have  been  linked  hand 
in  hand,  and  imited  heart  to  heart,  to  opposite  sides  of  a 
great  gulf ;  by  divisions  of  culture  which  made  wise 
men  look  down  on  the  unlearned,  and  the  unlearned  hate 
the  wise  men ;  by  clefts  of  social  position,  and  mainly 
that  diabolical  one  of  slave  and  free.  All  these  divisive 
and  disintegrating  forces  were  in  active  operation.  The 
only  thing  except  Christianity,  which  produced  even  a 
semblance  of  union,  was  the  iron  ring  of  the  Roman 
power  which  compressed  them  all  into  one  indeed,  but 
crushed  the  life  out  of  them  in  the  process.  Into  that 
disintegrating  world,  full  of  mutual  repulsion,  came 
One  Who  drew  men  to  Himself  and  said,  "  One  is  your 
Master,  even  Christ,  and  all  ye  are  brethren."  And  to 
their  own  astonishment,  male  and  female,  Greek  and 
Jew,  bond  and  free,  philosopher  and  fool,  found  them- 
selves sitting  at  the  same  table  as  members  of  one 
family ;  and  they  looked  in  each  other's  eyes  and  said, 
"  Brother  !  "  There  had  never  been  anything  hke  it 
in  the  world.  The  name  is  a  memorial  of  the  unifying 
power  of  the  Christian  faith. 

And  it  is  a  reminder  to  us  of  our  own  shortcomings. 
Of  course,  in  the  early  days,  the  little  band  were  driven 
together,  as  sheep  that  stray  over  a  pasture  in  the  sun- 
shine will  huddle  into  a  corner  in  a  storm,  or  when  the 
wolves  are  threatening.  There  are  many  reasons  to- 
day which  make  less  criminal  the  ahenation  from  one 


SAINTS,  BELIEVERS,  BRETHREN        195 

another  of  Christian  communities  and  Christian  indi- 
viduals. I  am  not  going  to  dwell  on  the  evident  signs 
in  this  day,  for  which  God  be  thanked,  that  Christian 
men  are  beginning,  more  than  they  once  did,  to  realize 
their  unity  in  Jesus  Christ,  and  to  be  content  to  think 
less  of  the  things  that  separate  than  of  the  far  greater 
things  that  unite.  But  I  would  lay  upon  your  hearts, 
as  individual  parts  of  that  great  whole,  this,  that  what- 
ever may  be  the  differences  in  culture,  outlook,  social 
position,  or  the  like,  between  two  Christian  men,  they 
each,  the  rich  man  and  the  poor,  the  educated  man  and 
the  unlettered  one,  the  master  and  the  servant,  ought 
to  feel  that  deep  down  in  their  true  selves  they  are 
nearer  one  another  than  they  are  to  the  men  who, 
differing  from  them  in  regard  to  their  faith  in  Jesus 
Christ,  are  Hke  them  in  all  these  superficial  respects. 
Regulate  your  conduct  by  that  thought. 

That  name,  too,  speaks  to  us  of  the  source  from  which 
Christian  brotherhood  has  come.  We  are  brethren  of 
each  other  because  we  have  one  Father,  even  God,  and 
the  Fatherhood  which  makes  us  brethren  is  not  that 
which  commimicates  the  common  life  of  humanity,  but 
that  which  imparts  the  new  life  of  sonship  through 
Jesus  Christ,  So  the  name  points  to  the  only  way  by 
which  the  world's  dream  of  a  universal  brotherhood 
can  ever  be  fulfilled.  If  there  is  to  be  fraternity  there 
must  be  fatherhood,  and  the  life  which,  possessed  by 
each,  makes  a  family  of  all,  is  the  life  which  He  gives, 


196        SAINTS,  BELIEVERS,  BRETHREN 

who  is  "  the  firstborn  among  many  brethren,"  and 
who,  to  them  who  beheve  on  Him,  gives  power  to 
become  the  sons  of  God,  and  the  brethren  of  all  the 
other  sons  and  daughters  of  the  Lord  God  Almighty. 

So,  dear  friends,  take  these  names,  ponder  their 
significance  and  the  duties  they  impose.  Let  us  make 
sure  that  they  are  true  of  us.  Do  not  be  content  with  the 
vague,  often  unmeaning  name  of  Christian,  but  fill  it 
with  meaning  by  being  a  believer  on  Christ,  a  saint 
devoted  to  God,  and  a  brother  of  all  who.  "  by  like 
precious  faith,"  have  become  Sons  of  God. 


Prudence  and   Faith 

And  Amaziah  said  to  the  man  of  God,  But  what  shall  we  do  for 
the  hundred  talents  which  I  have  given  to  the  army  of  Israel  ?  And 
the  man  of  God  answered.  The  Lord  is  able  to  give  thee  much  more 
than  this. — 2  Chron.  xxv.  9. 

THE  character  of  this  Amaziah,  one  of  the  Kings  of 
Judah,  is  summed  up  by  the  chronicler  in  a 
damning  epigram  :  "  He  did  that  which  was  right  in  the 
sight  of  the  Lord,  but  not  with  a  perfect  heart."  He 
was  one  of  your  half-and-half  people,  or,  as  Hosea  says, 
"  a  cake  not  turned,"  burnt  black  on  one  side,  and  raw 
dough  on  the  other.  So  when  he  came  to  the  throne, 
in  the  buoyancy  and  insolence  of  youth,  he  immediately 
began  to  aim  at  conquests  in  the  neighbouring  httle 
states ;  and  in  order  to  strengthen  himself  he  hired  "  a 
hundred  thousand  mighty  men  of  valour  "  out  of  Israel 
for  a  hundred  talents  of  silver.  To  seek  help  from 
Israel  was,  in  a  prophet's  eyes,  equivalent  to  flinging  off 
help  from  God.  So  a  man  of  God  comes  to  him,  and 
warns  him  that  the  Lord  is  not  with  Israel,  and  that  the 
alliance  is  not  permissible  for  him.  But,  instead  of 
yielding  to  the  prophet's  advice,  he  parries  it  with  this 


198  PRUDENCE   AND   FAITH 

misplaced  question,  "  But  what  shall  we  do  for  the 
hundred  talents  that  I  have  given  to  the  army  of  Israel  ?  " 
He  does  not  care  to  ask  whether  the  counsel  that  he  is 
getting  is  right  or  wrong,  or  whether  what  he  is  intending 
to  do  is  in  conformity  with,  or  opposition  to,  the  will  of 
God,  but,  passing  by  all  such  questions,  at  once  he 
fastens  on  the  lower  consideration  of  expediency — 
"  What  is  to  become  of  me  if  I  do  as  the  prophet  would 
have  me  do  ?  What  a  heavy  loss  one  hundred  talents 
will  be  !  It  is  too  much  to  sacrifice  to  a  scruple  of  that 
sort.    It  cannot  be  done." 

A  great  many  of  us  may  take  a  lesson  from  this  man. 
There  are  two  things  in  my  text — a  misplaced  question 
and  a  triumphant  answer  :  "  What  shall  we  do  for  the 
hundred  talents  ?  " ;  "  The  Lord  is  able  to  give  thee 
much  more  than  this."  Now,  remarkably  enough,  both 
question  and  answer  may  be  either  very  right  or  very 
wrong,  according  as  they  are  taken,  and  I  purpose  to 
look  at  those  two  aspects  of  each. 

I.    A  Misplaced  Question. 

I  call  it  misplaced  because  Amaziah's  fault,  and  the 
fault  of  a  great  many  of  us,  was,  not  that  he  took  conse- 
quences into  accoimt,  but  that  he  took  them  into 
account  at  the  wrong  time.  The  question  should  have 
come  second,  not  first.  Amaziah's  first  business  should 
have  been  to  see  clearly  what  was  duty ;  and  then,  and 
not  till  then,  the  next  business  should  have  been  to 
consider  consequences. 


PRUDENCE   AND   FAITH  199 

Consider  the  right  place  and  way  of  putting  this 
question.  Many  of  us  make  shipwTeck  of  our  lives 
because,  with  our  eyes  shut,  we  determine  upon  some 
grand  design,  and  fall  under  the  condemnation  of  the 
man  that  "  began  to  build,  and  was  not  able  to  finish." 
He  drew  a  great  plan  of  a  stately  mansion ;  and  then 
found  that  he  had  neither  money  in  the  bank,  nor  stones 
in  his  quarry,  to  finish  it,  and  so  it  stood — a  ruin.  All 
through  our  Lord's  life  He  was  engaged  rather  in  re- 
pressing volunteers  than  in  sohciting  recruits,  and  He 
from  time  to  time  poured  a  douche  of  cold  water  upon 
swiftly  effervescing  desires  to  go  after  Him.  When  the 
multitudes  followed  Him,  He  turned  and  said  to  them, 
"  If  you  are  counting  on  being  My  disciples,  understand 
what  it  means  :  take  up  the  Cross  and  follow  Me."  When 
an  enthusiastic  man,  who  had  not  looked  consequences 
in  the  face,  came  rushing  to  Him  and  said :  "  Lord,  I 
will  follow  thee  whithersoever  Thou  goest,"  His  answer 
to  him  was  another  pull  at  the  string  of  the  shower 
bath :  "  The  Son  of  Man  hath  not  where  to  lay  His 
head."  When  the  two  disciples  came  to  Him  and  said  : 
"  Grant  that  we  may  sit,  the  one  on  Thy  right  hand  and 
the  other  on  Thy  left,  when  Thou  comest  into  Thy  King- 
dom," He  said  :  "  Are  ye  able  to  drink  of  the  cup  that 
I  drink  of,  and  to  be  baptized  with  the  baptism  that  I 
am  baptized  withal  ?  "  Look  the  facts  in  the  face 
before  you  make  your  election.  Jesus  Christ  will  enhst 
no  man  imder  false  pretences.     Recruiting  sergeants 


200  PRUDENCE  AND   FAITH 

tell  country  bumpkins  or  city  louts  wonderful  stories 
of  what  they  will  get  if  they  take  the  shilUng  and  put  on 
the  King's  uniform ;  but  Jesus  Christ  does  not  recruit 
His  soldiers  in  that  fashion.  If  a  man  does  not  open 
his  eyes  to  a  clear  vision  of  the  consequences  of  his  ac- 
tions, his  hfe  will  go  to  water  in  all  directions.  And 
there  is  no  region  in  which  such  clear  insight  into  what 
is  going  to  follow  upon  my  determinations  and  the  part 
that  I  take,  is  more  necessary  than  in  the  Christian  life. 
It  is  just  because  in  certain  types  of  character,  "  the 
word  is  received  with  joy,"  and  springs  up  immediately, 
that  when  "the  sun  is  risen  with  a  burning  heat," — that 
is,  as  Christ  explains,  when  the  pinch  of  difficulty  comes 
— "immediately  they  fall  away,"  and  all  their  grand 
resolutions  go  to  nothing.  "  Lightly  come,  lightly  go." 
Let  us  face  the  facts  of  what  is  involved,  in  the  way  of 
sacrifice,  surrender,  loss,  if  we  determine  to  be  on  Christ's 
side ;  and  then,  when  the  anticipated  difi&culties  come, 
we  shall  neither  be  perplexed  nor  swept  away,  but  be 
able  quietly  to  say,  "  I  discounted  it  all  beforehand  ;  I 
knew  it  was  coming."  The  storm  catches  the  ship  that 
is  carrying  full  sail  and  expecting  nothing  but  light  and 
favourable  breezes ;  while  the  captain  that  looked  into 
the  weather  quarter  and  saw  the  black  cloud  beginning 
to  rise  above  the  horizon,  and  took  in  his  sails  and  made 
his  vessel  snug  and  tight,  rides  out  the  gale.  It  is  wisdom 
that  becomes  a  man,  to  ask  this  question,  if  first  of  all 
he  has  asked,  "  What  ought  I  to  do  ?  " 


PRUDENCE   AND   FAITH  201 

But  we  have  here  an  instance  of  a  right  thing  in  a 
wrong  place.  It  was  right  to  ask  the  question,  but 
wrong  to  ask  it  at  that  point.  Amaziah  thought  nothing 
about  duty.  There  sprang  up  in  his  mind  at  once  the 
cowardly  and  ignoble  thought :  "  I  cannot  afEord  to  do 
what  is  right,  because  it  will  cost  me  a  hundred  talents," 
and  that  was  his  sin.  Consequences  may  be,  must  be, 
faced  in  anticipation,  or  a  man  is  a  fool.  He  that  allows 
the  clearest  perception  of  disagreeable  consequences, 
such  as  pain,  loss  of  ease,  loss  of  reputation,  loss  of 
money,  or  any  other  harmful  results  that  may  follow,  to 
frighten  him  out  of  the  road  that  he  knows  he  ought  to 
take,  is  a  worse  fool  still,  for  he  is  a  coward  and  recreant 
to  his  own  conscience. 

We  have  to  look  into  our  own  hearts  for  the  most 
solemn  and  pressing  illustrations  of  this  sin,  and  I  dare- 
say we  all  of  us  can  remember  clear  duties  that  we  have 
neglected,  because  we  did  not  like  to  face  what  would 
come  from  them.  A  man  in  business  will  say,  "  I  cannot 
afEord  to  have  such  a  high  standard  of  morality  ;  I  shall 
be  hopelessly  run  over  in  the  race  with  my  competitors 
if  I  do  not  do  as  they  do."  Or  he  will  say,  "  I  durst 
not  take  a  stand  as  an  out-and-out  Christian ;  I  shall 
lose  connexions,  I  shall  lose  position.  People  will  laugh 
at  me.     What  am  I  to  do  for  the  hundred  talents  ?  " 

But  we  can  find  the  same  thing  in  Churches.  I  do  not 
mean  to  enter  upon  controversial  questions,  but  as  an 
instance,  I  may  remind  you  that  one  great  argument 


202  PRUDENCE   AND   FAITH 

that  our  friends  who  believe  in  an  EstabHshed  Church 
are  always  bringing  forward,  is  just  a  modern  form  of 
Amaziah's  question,  "  What  shall  we  do  for  the  hundred 
talents  ?  How  could  the  Church  be  maintained,  how 
could  its  ministrations  be  continued,  if  its  State-pro- 
vided revenues  were  withdrawn  or  given  up  ?  "  But  it 
is  not  only  Anglicans  who  put  the  consideration  of  the 
consequences  of  obedience  in  the  wrong  place.  All  the 
Churches  are  but  too  apt  to  let  their  eyes  wander  from 
reading  the  plain  precepts  of  the  New  Testament  to 
looking  for  the  damaging  results  to  be  expected  from 
keeping  them.  Do  we  not  sometimes  hear,  as  answer 
to  would-be  reformers,  "  We  cannot  afford  to  give  up 
this,  that,  or  the  other  practice  ?  We  should  not  be 
able  to  hold  our  ground,  unless  we  did  so-and-so  and 
so-and-so." 

But  not  only  individuals  or  Churches  are  guilty  in  this 
matter.  The  nation  takes  a  leaf  out  of  Amaziah's  book, 
and  puts  aside  many  plain  duties,  for  no  better  reason 
than  that  it  would  cost  too  much  to  do  them.  "  What 
is  the  use  of  talking  about  suppressing  the  liquor  traffic 
or  housing  the  poor  ?  Think  of  the  cost."  The  hundred 
talents  block  the  way  and  bribe  the  national  conscience. 
For  instance,  the  opium  traffic  ;  how  is  it  defended  ? 
Some  attempt  is  made  to  prove  either  that  we  did  not 
force  it  upon  China,  or  that  the  talk  about  the  evils  of 
opium  is  missionary  fanaticism,  but  the  sheet-anchor 
is  :  "  How  are  we  ever  to  raise  the  Indian  revenue  if  we 


PRUDENCE   AND   FAITH  203 

give  up  the  traffic  ?  "  That  is  exactly  Amaziah  over 
again,  come  from  the  dead,  and  resurrected  in  a  very 
ugly  shape. 

So  national  poUcy  and  Church  action,  and — what  is 
of  far  more  importance  to  you  and  me  than  either  the 
one  or  the  other — our  own  personal  relation  to  Jesus 
Christ  and  discipleship  to  Him,  have  been  hampered, 
and  are  being  hampered,  just  by  that  persistent  and 
unworthy  attitude  of  looking  at  the  consequences  of 
doing  plain  duties,  and  permitting  ourselves  to  be 
frightened  from  the  duties  because  the  consequences 
are  unwelcome  to  us. 

Prudence  is  all  right,  but  when  Prudence  takes  com- 
mand and  presimies  to  guide  Conscience,  then  it  is  all 
wrong.  In  some  courts  of  law  and  in  certain  cases, 
the  judge  has  an  assessor  sitting  beside  him,  an  expert 
about  some  of  the  questions  that  are  involved.  Con- 
science is  the  judge.  Prudence  the  assessor.  But  if  the 
assessor  ventures  up  on  the  judgment  seat,  and  begins 
to  give  the  decisions  which  it  is  not  its  business  to  give 
— for  its  only  business  is  to  give  advice — then  the  only 
thing  to  do  with  the  assessor  is  to  teU  him  to  hold  his 
tongue  and  let  the  judge  speak.  It  is  no  answer  to  the 
prophet's  prohibition  to  say,  "  But  what  shall  I  do  for 
the  hundred  talents  ?  "  A  yet  better  answer  than  the 
prophet  gave  Amaziah  would  have  been,  "  Never  mind 
about  the  hundred  talents  ;  do  what  is  right,  and  leave 
the  rest  to  God."    However,  that  was  not  the  answer. 


204  PRUDENCE   AND   FAITH 

II.     The  Triumphant  Answer. 

"  The  Lord  is  able  to  give  thee  much  more  than 
these."  Now,  this  answer,  like  the  question,  may  be 
right  or  wrong,  according  as  it  is  taken.  In  what  aspect 
is  it  wrong  ?  In  what  sense  is  it  not  true  ?  I  suppose 
this  prophet  did  not  mean  more  than  the  imdeniable 
truth  that  God  was  able  to  give  Amaziah  more  than  a 
hundred  talents.  He  was  not  thinking  of  the  loftier 
meanings  which  we  necessarily,  as  Christian  people,  at 
a  later  stage  of  Revelation,  and  with  a  clearer  vision  of 
many  things,  attach  to  the  words.  He  simply  meant, "  you 
will  very  likely  get  more  than  the  one  hundred  talents 
that  you  have  lost,  if  you  do  what  pleases  God."  He  was 
speaking  from  the  point  of  view  of  the  Old  Testament ; 
though  even  in  the  Old  Testament  we  have  instances 
enough  that  prosperity  did  not  always  attend  righteous- 
ness. In  the  Old  Testament  we  find  the  Book  of  Job, 
and  the  Book  of  Ecclesiastes,  and  many  a  psalm,  all  of 
which  were  written  in  order  to  grapple  with  the  question, 
"  How  is  it  that  God  does  not  give  the  good  man  more 
than  the  hundred  talents  that  he  has  lost  for  the  sake 
of  being  good  ?  "  It  is  not  true,  and  it  is  a  dreadful 
mistake  to  suggest  that  it  is  true,  that  a  man  in  this 
world  never  loses  by  being  a  good,  honest,  consistent 
Christian.  He  often  does  lose  a  great  deal,  as  far  as 
this  world  is  concerned  ;  and  he  has  to  make  up  his  mind 
to  lose  it,  and  it  would  be  a  very  poor  thing  to  say  to 
him,  "  Now,  live  like  a  Christian  man,  and  if  you  are 


PRUDENCE   AND   FAITH  205 

flinging  away  money  or  anything  else  because  of  your 
Christianity,  you  "will  get  it  back."  No ;  you  will  not, 
in  a  good  many  cases.  Sometimes  you  will,  and  some- 
times you  ^vill  not.  It  does  not  matter  whether  you  do 
or  do  not. 

But  the  sense  in  which  the  triumphant  answer  of  the 
prophet  is  true  is  a  far  higher  one.  "  The  Lord  is  able 
to  give  thee  much  more  than  this," — what  is  "  more  "  ? 
A  thousand  talents  ?  No ;  the  "  much  more  "  that 
Christianity  has  educated  us  to  understand  is  meant  in 
the  depths  of  such  a  promise  as  this  is,  first  of  all, 
character.  Every  man  that  sacrifices  anything  to  con- 
victions of  duty  gains  more  than  he  loses  thereby,  be- 
cause he  gains  in  inward  nobleness  and  strength,  to  say 
nothing  of  the  genial  warmth  of  an  approving  conscience. 
And  whilst  that  is  true  in  all  regions  of  hfe,  it  is  most 
especially  true  in  regard  to  sacrifices  made  from  Chris- 
tian principle.  No  matter  how  disastrous  may  be  the 
results  externally,  the  inward  results  of  faithfulness  are 
so  much  greater  and  sweeter  and  nobler  than  all  the 
external  evil  consequences  that  may  follow,  that  it  is 
"  good  pohcy  "  for  a  man  to  beggar  himself  for  Christ's 
sake,  for  the  sake  of  the  durable  riches — which  our 
Lord  Himself  expounds  to  be  synonymous  with  right- 
eousness— which  will  come  thereby.  He  that  wins 
strength  and  Christlikeness  of  character  by  sacrificing 
for  Christ  has  won  far  more  than  he  can  ever  lose. 

He  wins  not  only  character,  but  a  fuller  capacity  for 


206  PRUDENCE   AND   FAITH 

a  fuller  possession  of  Jesus  Christ  Himself,  and  that  is 
infinitely  more  than  anything  that  any  man  has  ever 
sacrificed  for  the  sake  of  that  dear  Lord.  Do  you 
remember  when  it  was  that  there  was  granted  to  the 
Apostle  John  the  vision  of  the  throned  Christ,  and  he 
felt  laid  upon  him  the  touch  of  the  vivifying  hand  from 
Heaven  ?  It  was  "  when  I  was  in  Patmos  for  the 
Word  of  God,  and  for  the  testimony  of  Jesus."  He  lost 
Ephesus ;  he  gained  an  open  Heaven  and  a  visible 
Christ.  Do  you  remember  who  it  was  that  said,  "  I 
have  suffered  the  loss  of  all  things,  and  do  count  them 
but  dung,  that  I  may  win  Christ "  ?  It  was  a  good 
bargain,  Paul !  The  balance-sheet  showed  a  heavy 
balance  to  your  credit.  Debit,  "  all  things ;  "  credit, 
Christ.  "  The  Lord  is  able  to  give  thee  much  more  than 
this." 

Remember  the  old  prophecy  :  "  For  brass  I  will  bring 
gold  ;  and  for  iron,  silver."  The  brass  and  the  iron  may 
be  worth  something,  but  if  we  barter  them  away  and 
get  instead  gold  and  silver,  we  are  gainers  by  the  trans- 
action. Fling  out  the  ballast  if  you  wish  the  balloon 
to  rise.  Let  the  hundred  talents  go  if  you  wish  to  get 
the  "  more  than  this."  And  Hsten  to  the  New  Testa- 
ment variation  of  this  Old  Testament  promise,  "  If  thou 
wilt  have  treasure  in  heaven,  go  and  seU  aU  that  thou 
hast,  and  follow  Me" 


"  Never  in   Bondage  " 


We  .  .  .  were  never  in  bondage  to  any  man.       How  sayest  Thou 
Ye  shall  be  made  free  ?  — Jows  viii.  33. 

"AT EVER  in  bondage  to  any  man"  ?  Then  what 
i.^  about  Egypt,  Babylon,  Persia,  Sjrria  ?  Was 
there  not  a  Roman  garrison  looking  down  from 
the  castle  into  the  very  Temple  comrts  where  this  boastful 
falsehood  was  uttered  ?  It  required  some  hardihood 
to  say,  "  Never  in  bondage  to  any  man,"  in  the  face  of 
such  a  history,  and  such  a  present.  But  was  it  not 
just  an  instance  of  the  strange  power  which  we  all  have 
and  exercise,  of  ignoring  disagreeable  facts,  and  by 
ingenious  manipulation  taking  the  wrinkles  out  of  the 
photograph  ?  The  Jews  were  perhaps  not  misunder- 
standing Jesus  Christ  quite  so  much  as  these  words 
may  suggest.  If  He  had  been  promising,  as  they  chose 
to  assume,  political  and  external  liberty,  I  fancy  they 
would  have  risen  to  the  bait  a  little  more  eagerly  than 
they  did  to  His  words. 

But  be  that  as  it  may,  this  strange  answer  of  theirs 


208  "NEVER   IN   BONDAGE" 

suggests  that  power  of  ignoring  what  we  do  not  want  to 
see,  not  only  in  the  way  in  which  I  have  suggested, 
but  also  in  another.  For  if  they  had  any  inkling  of 
what  Jesus  meant  by  slavery  and  freedom,  they,  by 
such  words  as  these,  put  away  from  themselves  the 
thought  that  they  were,  in  any  deep  and  inward  sense, 
bondsmen,  and  that  a  message  of  liberty  had  any 
apphcation  to  them.  Ah,  dear  friends,  there  was  a 
great  deal  of  human  nature  in  these  men,  who  thus  put 
up  a  screen  between  them  and  the  penetrating  words  of 
our  Lord.  Were  they  not  doing  just  what  many  of  us — 
all  of  us  to  some  extent — do  :  ignoring  the  facts  of 
their  own  necessities,  of  their  own  spiritual  condition, 
denying  the  plain  lessons  of  experience  ?  Like  them, 
are  not  we  too  often  refusing  to  look  in  the  face  the  fact 
that  we  all,  apart  from  Him,  are  really  in  bondage  ? 
Because  we  do  not  realize  the  slavery,  are  we  not 
indifferent  to  the  offer  of  freedom  ?  "  We  were  never  in 
bondage  "  ;  consequently  we  add,  "  How  sayest  Thou, 
Ye  shall  be  made  free  ?  "  So  then,  my  text  brings 
us  to  think  of  three  things  :  our  bondage,  our  ignorance 
of  our  bondage,  our  consequent  indifference  to  Christ's 
offer  of  liberty.  Let  me  say  a  word  or  two  about  each 
of  these. 

First  as  to — 

I.    Our  Bondage. 

Christ  follows  the  vain  boast  in  the  text,  with  the 
calm,  grave,  profound  explanation  of  what  He  meant : 


"NEVER  IN  BONDAGE"  209 

"  Whoso  committeth  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin."  That  is 
true  in  two  ways.  By  the  act  of  sinning  a  man  shows 
that  he  is  the  slave  of  an  alien  power  that  has  captured 
him  ;  and  in  the  act  of  sinning,  he  rivets  the  chains 
and  increases  the  tyranny.  He  is  a  slave,  or  he  would 
not  obey  sin.  He  is  more  than  a  slave  because  he  has 
again  obeyed  it.  Now,  do  not  let  us  run  away  with 
the  idea  that  when  Jesus  speaks  of  sin  and  its  bondage, 
He  is  thinking  only,  or  mainly,  of  gross  outrages  and 
contradictions  of  the  plain  law  of  morality  and  decency, 
that  He  is  thinking  only  of  external  acts  which  all 
men  brand  as  being  wrong,  or  of  those  which  law  qualifies 
as  crimes.  We  have  to  go  far  deeper  than  that,  and 
into  a  far  more  inward  region  of  life  than  that,  before 
we  come  to  apprehend  the  inwardness  and  the  depth  of 
the  Christian  conception  of  what  sin  is.  We  have 
to  bring  the  whole  life  close  up  against  God,  and  then 
to  judge  its  deeds  thereby.  Therefore,  though  I  know 
I  am  speaking  to  a  mass  of  respectable,  law-abiding 
people,  very  few  of  you  having  any  knowledge  of  the 
grosser  and  uglier  forms  of  transgression,  and  I  daresay 
none  of  you  having  any  experience  of  what  it  is  to  sin 
against  human  law,  though  I  do  not  charge  you — God 
forbid  ! — with  vices,  and  still  less  with  crimes,  I  bring  to 
each  man's  conscience  a  far  more  searching  word  than 
either  of  these  two,  when  I  say,  "  We  all  have  sinned 
and  come  short  of  the  glory  of  God."  This  declara- 
tion of  the  universahty  and  reality  of  the  bondage 
M  s.  14 


210  "NEVER  IN  BONDAGE" 

of  sin  is  only  the  turning  into  plain  words  of  a  fact 
which  is  of  universal  experience,  though  it  may  be  of 
a  very  much  less  universal  consciousness.  We  may  not 
be  aware  of  the  fact,  because,  as  I  have  to  show  you,  we 
do  not  direct  our  attention  to  it.  But  there  it  is ; 
and  the  truth  is  that  every  man,  however  noble  his 
aspirations  sometimes,  however  pure  and  high  his 
convictions,  and  however  honest  in  the  main  may  be 
his  attempts  to  do  what  is  right,  when  he  deals  honestly 
with  himself,  becomes  more  or  less  conscious  of  just  that 
experience  which  a  great  expert  in  soul  analysis  and 
self-examination  made  :  "  I  find  a  law  " — an  influence 
working  upon  my  heart  with  the  inevitableness  and 
certainty  of  law — "  that  when  I  would  do  good,  evil 
is  present  with  me." 

We  all  know  that,  whether  we  regard  it  as  we  ought 
or  no.  We  all  say  Amen  to  that,  when  it  is  forced  upon 
our  attention.  There  is  something  in  us  that  thwarts 
aspiration  towards  good,  and  inclines  to  evil. 

"What  will  but  felt  the  fleshly  screen?" 

And  it  is  not  only  a  screen.  It  not  only  prevents 
us  from  rising  as  high  as  we  would,  but  it  sinks  us  so 
low  as  to  do  deeds  that  something  within  us  recoils 
from  and  brands  as  evil.  Jesus  teaches  us  that  he  who 
commits  sin  is  the  slave  of  sin ;  that  is  to  say,  that  an 
alien  power  has  captured  and  is  coercing  the  wrong-doer. 


"NEVER  IN   BONDAGE"  211 

That  teaching  does  not  destroy  responsibility,  but  it 
kindles  hope.  A  foreign  foe,  who  has  invaded  the  land, 
may  be  driven  out  of  the  land,  and  all  his  slaves  set 
free,  if  a  stronger  than  he  conies  against  him.  Chris- 
tianity is  called  gloomy  and  stern,  because  it  preaches 
the  corruption  of  man's  heart.  Is  it  not  a  gospel 
to  draw  a  distinction  between  the  evil  that  a  man  does, 
and  the  self  that  a  man  may  be  ?  Is  it  not  better, 
more  hopeful,  more  of  a  true  evangel,  to  say  to  a  man, 
"  Sin  dwelleth  in  you,"  than  to  say,  "  What  is  called  sin 
is  only  the  necessary  action  of  human  nature."  To 
believe  that  their  present  condition  is  not  slavery 
makes  men  hopeless  of  ever  gaining  freedom,  and  the 
true  gospel  of  the  emancipation  of  humanity  rests  on 
the  Christian  doctrine  of  the  bondage  of  sin. 

Let  me  remind  you  that  freedom  consists  not  in  the 
absence  of  external  constraints,  but  in  the  animal  in  us 
being  governed  by  the  will,  for  when  the  flesh  is  free 
the  man  is  a  slave.  And  it  means  that  the  will  should  be 
governed  by  the  conscience  ;  and  it  means  that  the  con- 
science should  be  governed  by  God.  There  are  the  stages. 
Men  are  built  in  three  stories,  so  to  speak.  Down  at  the 
bottom,  and  to  be  kept  there,  are  inclinations,  passions, 
lust,  desires,  which  are  all  but  blind  aimings  after  their 
appropriate  satisfaction,  without  any  question  as  to 
whether  the  satisfaction  is  right  or  wrong ;  and  above 
that  a  dominant  will  that  is  meant  to  control,  and  above 
that  a  conscience.     That  is  the  pyramid ;  and  as  by 


212  "NEVER  IN  BONDAGE" 

the  sunshine  on  the  gilded  top  of  some  spire,  the  shining 
apex,  the  conscience,  is  illumined  when  the  light  of 
God  falls  upon  it.  And  when  a  man  is  built  in  that 
fashion,  and  keeps  to  that  fashion,  then,  and  only  then, 
is  he  free. 

I  need  not  remind  you  of  how  the  metaphor  of  my  text 
receives  its  most  tragical  and  yet  most  common  illustra- 
tion and  confirmation  in  the  awful  fact  of  the  power  of 
any  evil  thing,  once  thought  or  done  by  a  man,  to 
reproduce  itself,  onwards  and  ever  onwards.  It  is 
a  far  commoner  thing  for  a  man  never  to  have  done 
some  given  evil,  never  to  have  got  drunk,  never  to  have 
stolen,  or  the  like,  than  to  have  done  it  only  once.  I 
have  heard  of  a  mysterious  illness,  in  which  at  first 
medical  analysis  detected  with  difficulty  one  single 
bacterion  in  a  great  quantity  of  blood.  But  in  a  few 
days,  so  had  they  multiphed  that  no  drop  could  be 
taken  anywhere  from  the  veins  which  was  not  full  of 
them.  That  is  how  men  get  under  the  slavery  of  any 
evil  thing ;  and  habit  becomes  stronger  than  anything 
except  that  "  strong  Son  of  God,  immortal  Love," 
whose  Spirit  can  conquer  even  it.  "  Can  the  Ethiopian 
change  his  skin,  or  the  leopard  his  spots  ?  Then 
may  ye  that  are  wont  to  do  evil  learn  to  do  well."  The 
bondage  is  real  and  hard. 

My  text  suggests  to  us  that  strange,  sad  fact — 

II.     Our  Ignorance  of  Our  Slavery. 

"  We  were  never  in  bondage  to  any  man,"  said  the 


"NEVER  IN  BONDAGE"  213 

Jews.  We  are  but  too  apt  to  repeat  the  empty  boast, 
and  as  they  forgot  Pharaoh  and  Nebuchadnezzar, 
Antiochus  and  Caesar,  we  forget  our  failures,  our  faults, 
our  sins.  We  ignore  them.  Is  not  that,  too,  a  plain 
fact  of  experience  ?  A  sadly  large  percentage  of  men 
never  have  really  opened  their  eyes  to  the  undeniable 
truth  that  sin  has  dominion  over  them.  They  go  along 
on  the  surface  of  things,  keeping  to  the  shallows  of 
human  life,  occupying  themselves  with  their  various 
duties  and  enjoyments,  and  they  never  know,  just 
because  they  shut  their  eyes  to  facts,  or  rather  turn 
their  eyes  away  from  facts — what  is  their  real  condition 
in  God's  sight.  Some  of  my  present  hearers  are,  in 
regard  to  this  matter,  what  the  old  Puritans  used  to  call 
"  Gospel-hardened."  They  have  their  hearts  and 
minds,  I  was  going  to  say  water-proofed,  by  repeated 
application  to  them,  as  I  am  trying  to  apply  them  now, 
of  truths  which  but  add  one  more  film  to  the  layers 
between  their  hearts  and  the  Gospel.  Because  they 
are  so  familiar  with  the  words  of  our  message,  they  all 
but  lose  the  faculty  of  bringing  its  power  into  contact 
with  themselves.  Oh  !  if  I  could  overcome  that  tendency 
which  there  is  in  all  regular  church  and  chapel-goers  to 
make  themselves  comfortable  in  their  corners,  and 
suppose  that  the  man  in  the  pulpit  is  saying  what 
he  ought  to  say,  and  that  they  need  not  give  much  heed 
to  his  message,  because  they  have  heard  it  all  before — 
if  I  could  once  get  the  sharp  point  of  this  great  Christian 


214  "NEVER  IN  BONDAGE" 

truth  of  our  slavery  under  sin,  through  the  manifold 
layers  with  which  your  heart  is  encrusted,  you  would 
find  out  the  weight  of  a  good  many  things  that  some 
of  you  think  very  phantasmal  and  of  little  consequence. 
There  is  nothing  about  us  that  is  more  remarkable 
and  more  awful,  when  you  come  to  think  of  it,  than  the 
power  that  we  have,  by  not  attending  to  something,  of 
making  that  something  practically  non-existent.  The 
great  search-lights,  that  they  now  have  on  battleships, 
will  fling  a  beam  of  terrible  revealing  power  on  one  small 
segment  of  the  vast  circle  of  the  sea  ;  and  all  the  rest, 
though  it  may  be  filled  with  the  enemy's  fleet,  will 
be  lying  in  darkness.  So  just  because  we  cannot  get 
you  to  think  of  the  facts  of  your  slavery  to  sin,  the  facts 
are  non-existent  as  far  as  you  are  concerned.  Let  me 
plead  with  you.  Surely  !  surely,  it  is  not  a  thing  worthy 
of  a  man  never  to  go  down  into  the  deep  places  of  your 
own  hearts  and  see  the  ugly  things  that  coil  and  wrestle 
and  swarm  and  multiply  there !  Ezekiel  was  once 
led  to  a  place  where,  through  a  hole  broken  in  the  wall, 
there  was  showed  him  an  inner  chamber,  on  the  walls 
of  which  were  painted  the  hideous  idols  of  the  heathen. 
And  there,  in  the  presence  of  the  foul  shapes,  stood 
venerable  priests  and  official  dignitaries  of  Israel,  with 
their  censers  in  their  hands,  and  their  backs  to  the 
oracle  of  God.  There  is  a  chamber  hke  that  in  all  our 
hearts ;  and  it  would  be  a  great  deal  better  that  we 
should  go  down,  through  the  hole  in  the  wall,  and  see 


"NEVER  IN  BONDAGE"  215 

it,  than  that  we  should  live,  as  so  many  of  us  do,  in 
this  fool's  paradise  of  ignorance  of  our  own  sin.  It 
is  because  we  will  not  attend  to  the  facts  that  we  ignore 
the  facts.  The  evils  that  we  do,  and  that  we  cherish 
undone  in  our  hearts,  are  like  the  wreckers  on  some 
stormy  coast,  that  begin  operations  by  taking  the 
tongue  out  of  the  bell  that  hangs  on  the  buoy,  and 
putting  out  the  Hght  that  beams  from  the  beacon. 
Sin  chokes  conscience  ;  and  so  the  worse  a  man  is, 
the  less  he  feels  himself  to  be  bad  ;  and  while  a  saint 
will  be  tortured  with  agonies  of  remorse  for  some  slight 
peccadillo,  a  brigand  will  add  a  murder  or  two  to  his 
hst,  and  wipe  his  mouth  and  say,  "  I  have  done  no 
harm."  We  are  ignorant  of  our  sin  because  we  bribe  our 
consciences,  because  we  drug  our  consciences,  because 
we  will  not  attend  to  the  facts  of  our  own  spiritual 
being. 

That  ignorance  of  our  bondage  is  characteristic  of  the 
tone  of  mind  of  this  generation.  Things  have  changed 
in  that  respect,  as  in  a  great  many  others,  since  I  was  a 
boy.  I  do  not  hear  now,  from  people  who  desire  to 
unite  themselves  to  Jesus  Christ,  the  deep  poignai»t 
penitence  and  confession  of  sin  that  one  used 
to  hear.  I  do  not  hear  the  facts  of  sin,  its 
gravity  and  universality,  preached  from  pulpits  in  the 
way  it  used  to  be.  I  notice  in  the  ordinary,  average  man 
a  tendency  to  think  more  about  environment  and 
heredity  than  about  individual  responsibility,  and  on 


216  "  NEVER  IN  BONDAGE  " 

the  whole  a  very  much  lowered  sense  of  the  depth  and 
the  power  and  the  universality  of  transgression.  And 
that  is  why,  to  a  large  extent,  the  Christianity  of  this 
generation  is  so  shallow  a  thing  as  it  is. 

That    brings    me,   lastly,  to    say  a  word    about — 

III.  The  Consequent  Indifference  to  Christ's 
Offer  of  Freedom. 

"  How  sayest  Thou,  Ye  shall  be  made  free  ?  "  Of 
course,  if  they  had  no  consciousness  of  bondage,  there 
was  no  attraction  for  them  in  a  promise  of   freedom. 

That  remark  opens  out  two  thoughts,  on  which  I 
do  not  dwell.  First,  the  ignoring  of  the  fact  of  sin 
which  is  so  common  amongst  us  all  to-day,  makes  it 
impossible  to  understand  Christ  and  Christianity. 
Brethren,  that  great  Gospel,  and  that  great  Lord  who 
is  the  subject  of  the  Gospel,  have  many  other  aspects 
than  this.  But  this  is  the  central  thought  as  to  it  and 
Him,  that  it  is  the  emancipation  from  sin,  because  He 
is  the  Emancipator.  "  The  spirit  of  the  Lord  is  upon 
Me,  because  He  hath  anointed  Me  to  preach  deliverance 
to  the  captives."  And  wherever  we  find,  as  we  do 
find,  in  many  quarters  to-day,  that  the  central  fact  of 
Christianity,  the  Death  for  the  sin  of  the  world,  is 
deposed  from  its  place,  there  the  life-blood  is  ebbing  out 
of  the  Gospel.  Historically,  the  beginning  of  almost 
all  heresies  has  been  the  under-estimate  of  the  fact  of 
sin.  As  long  as  you  dwell  in  the  shallows  of  human 
experience,  a  shallow  Christianity  and  a  shallow  Christ 


"NEVER  IN  BONDAGE"  217 

will  be  enough  for  you.  But  when  once  you  get  to 
understand  the  depths  of  your  own  need,  and  the 
depths  of  your  brother's  need,  then  nothing  less  than 
the  Christ  that  died  to  solve  the  problem,  insoluble 
else,  of  how  to  emancipate  the  soul  and  the  world  from 
the  tyranny  of  sin,  will  be  enough  for  you.  Once 
"  the  waters  of  the  great  deep  are  broken  up,"  and 
the  floods  are  out,  there  is  nothing  for  it  but  the  Ark. 
It  is  not  enough  then  to  speak  of  a  human  Christ ;  it 
is  not  enough,  when  a  man's  conscience  has  been  roused, 
not  to  exaggeration,  but  to  clear  sight,  of  what  he  is — 
it  is  not  enough  then  to  speak  of  an  example  Christ, 
or  of  a  teaching  Christ.  Ah  !  we  want  more  than  that. 
We  want  "  that  which  first  of  all  I  delivered  unto  you, 
how  that  Jesus  Christ  died  for  our  sins,  according  to 
the  Scriptures." 

And,  brethren,  just  as  the  ignoring  of  the  fact  of  sin 
makes  the  understanding  of  Christ  and  His  word  im- 
possible, so  it  makes  real  reception  of  Him  for  ourselves 
impossible.  Many  men  are  brought  near  to  Jesus  by 
other  roads  ;  thank  God  for  it !  There  are  a  thousand 
ways  to  the  Cross,  but  it  is  the  Cross  that  we  must 
clasp,  if  in  any  true  sense  we  are  to  clasp  Christ.  And 
there  is  all  the  difference  betweeen  the  superficial, 
partial,  and  easy-going  profession  of  Christianity  which 
is  so  common  amongst  us  to-day,  and  the  Hfe  and 
death  clutching  and  cUnging  to  Him  which  comes  when, 
and  only  when,  a  man  feels  that  the  tyrant  whom  he 


218  "NEVER  IN  BONDAGE" 

served  as  a  slave,  is  close  behind  him,  and  that  his  only 
chance  of  freedom  is  to  hold  fast  by  the  horns  of  the 
altar  of  the  Sanctuary,  and  to  cleave  to  the  Christ  in 
Whom,  and  in  Whom  alone,  we  are  free  indeed. 


What  a  Good   Man  is  and  How 
he  is   Made 

He  was  a  good  man,  and  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  of  faith. 
— Acts  xi.  24. 

WE  know  that  Luke  was  a  physician,  for  we  are 
told  so  in  Scripture.  There  is  also  a  probably 
baseless  tradition  that  he  was  a  painter.  However  that 
may  be  as  regards  brushes,  he  was  a  painter  with  his 
pen,  and  had  a  keen  eye  and  a  deft  hand  to  portray 
character.  Here,  in  three  swift  strokes,  we  have  a 
Ukeness  of  Barnabas.  But  Luke  was  a  physician,  too 
—a  surgeon— and  my  text  is  a  dissection,  if  I  may  so 
say,  as  well  as  a  portrait.  It  begins  with  the  surface 
— "  He  was  a  good  man  "  ;  and  then  it  cuts  a  little 
deeper—"  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost."  That  is  why  "  he 
was  a  good  man."  And  then  it  goes  deeper  still — 
"  and  of  faith  "  ;  and  that  is  why  he  was  full  of  the 
Holy  Ghost.  One  has  sometimes  seen  anatomical 
models,  where  one  lifts  ofi  the  top  piece  that  represents 
skin  and  flesh,  and  lays  bare  the  deeper-seated  organs. 
Luke's    analysis   here    is    somewhat    Uke    these.      It 


220  WHAT    A    GOOD   MAN   IS 

gives  a  vertical  section,  that  discloses  the  strata — not 
only  the  grass,  and  the  "  light  of  laughing  flowers  "  on 
the  surface,  but  the  underlying  soils  which  nourish 
these.  All  that  I  wish  to  do  is  to  stand  by  and  note 
the  uncovering  of  these  three  successive  layers :  "a 
good  man,"  "  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost,"  "  full  of  faith." 

We  have — 

I.     The  Christian  Notion  of  a  Good  Man. 

Amongst  all  the  noble  words  that  are  prostituted  by 
common  use,  and  vulgarized  in  unthinking  lips,  there 
are  few  that  are  more  prostituted  and  vulgarized  than 
that  great  phrase,  "  a  good  man."  There  is  no  better 
proof  of  the  general  lowness  of  morality  than  the  ease 
with  which  that  word  is  applied.  You  remember  how 
our  Lord  once  had  occasion  to  rebuke  a  man  who  used 
it,  as  we  so  often  use  it,  with  no  recognition  of  the  awful- 
ness  and  the  sublimity  that  lie  in  it.  He  said,  "  Why 
callest  thou  Me  good  ?  "  not  repudiating  the  character, 
but  rebuking  the  employment  of  the  word  as  a  mere 
complimentary  appellation.  Nowadays  it  is  hung 
round  the  neck  of  the  poorest  creatures,  if  they  have 
some  touch  of  geniality  or  good  nature  about  them,  and 
even  sometimes  taken  down  to  a  lower  depth  than  that. 
Now,  it  is  very  remarkable  how  very  chary  the  New 
Testament  is  in  the  employment  of  this  name.  There 
are  other  titles  which  it  prefers — "  righteous,"  "  just," 
"  saints,"  and  the  like.  Seldom  does  it  use  the  word 
"  good  "  ;  and  always  as  connoting  certain  qualities, 


WHAT    A   GOOD    MAN    IS  221 

which  will  come  out  if  I  briefly  remind  you  of  the  sort 
of  man  to  whom  it  is  applied  here.     Barnabas  "  was  a 
good  man,"   says  Luke,  and  he  says  so  in  explanation 
of  the  large  sympathy  and  superiority  to  narrow  preju- 
dice which  enabled  him  to  recognize,  as  soon  as  he  saw 
it,  the  working  of  God's  spirit  in  a  strange  form  in  that 
Gentile  congregation  that  had  been  gathered  together 
at  Antioch.    The  rest  of  his  life,  so  far  as  it  is  recorded 
for  us  in  the  Acts,  is  of  a  piece  with  this.    He  began 
his  Christian  career  by  the  entire  surrender  of  his  posses- 
sions, so  that  thereafter,  like  Paul,  he  had  to  work  for 
his  living  with  his  hands.     Then  he  was  the  first  of  them 
all  to  recognize  Saul  of  Tarsus  as  a  true  Christian.  Then 
we  have  him  eagerly  stretching  out  his  sympatliies  to 
this  new  Gentile  Church  in  Antioch.     Then  we  have 
him,  wath  singular  self- suppression  and  absence  of  any- 
thing like  envy,  going  to  seek  Saul,  to  bring  him  into 
the  work  which  he  himself  was  doing.     Then  we  have 
his  entire  consecration  to  the    missionary  cause,  and 
association  with  Paul  in  his  first  journey,  in  the  course 
of  which  we  see  his  willing  acquiescence  in  the   swift 
growth  of  influence  of  the  younger  man,  and  his  taking 
the  second  place  without  a  moment's  murmuring  or 
hesitation.  And  then  we  have  a  breakdown,  where  "  the 
contention  was  sharp  between  them,"  and  an  eclipse 
came  over  Barnabas  for  many  years. 

That  is  the  New  Testament  notion  of  a  "  good  man  "  ; 
and  although  I  have  no  desire  to  dwell  at  any  length 


222  WHAT   A   GOOD    MAN    IS 

upon  this  part  of  my  subject,  I  wish  to  make  one  obser- 
vation, and  that  is,  that  the  special  differentia  of  this 
character  is,  no  heroic  virtues,  but  a  certain  geniality, 
gentleness,  beauty  of  tenderness,  and  self-suppression  ; 
and  to  draw  this  conclusion,  that  unless  our  goodness  is 
beautiful  as  well  as  good,  it  lacks  its  highest  consecra- 
tion. The  wise  old  Greeks  coined  a  phrase,  "  beautiful 
and  good,"  and  the  two  were  so  buckled  together  as  to 
constitute  but  one  conception.  Now,  that  is  where  a 
great  many  good  people  go  far  wrong.  They  seem  to 
think  that  the  main  thing  is  that  they  shall  be  righteous, 
just,  pure.  Yes,  so  it  is ;  but  unless  you  take  care  to 
make  yourself  sweet  as  well  as  good,  and  attractive  as 
well  as  austere,  you  have  yet  to  learn  what  is  the  per- 
fectest  consecration  and  irradiation  of  a  human  charac- 
ter. "  Scarcely  for  a  righteous  man  will  one  die  " — no, 
that  evokes  but  little  outgoing  of  sympathy  and  affec- 
tion ;  "  yet  peradventure  for  a  good  man  some  would 
even  dare  to  die."  See  to  it  that  your  goodness  is 
"  lovely,"  as  well  as  "  of  good  report." 

Another  thought  comes  out  of  this  New  Testament 
conception  of  "  a  good  man,"  as  exemplified  in  the  case 
of  Barnabas,  and  that  is,  one  does  not  need  to  be  a 
faultless  monster  to  be  a  good  man  in  Heaven's  eyes. 
Barnabas  is  an  instance  of  very  great  failure  in  the  case 
of  a  very  good  man.  And  though  it,  to  a  large  extent, 
wrecked  his  usefulness,  and  overshadowed  him  for  many 
a  day  with  disastrous  eclipse,  yet  he  fought  through  it 


WHAT    A    GOOD    MAN    IS  223 

somehow,  and  came  out  again  into  the  light,  and  the 
last  glimpse  of  him,  years  after  the  time  of  our  text,  is 
when  he  and  Paul  have  made  it  all  up,  and  Barnabas  has 
been  ashamed  of  himself,  no  doubt,  and  his  error  is  for- 
gotten and  buried.  Do  you  remember  who  it  was  that 
was  a  man  after  God's  own  heart  ?  The  man  that 
committed  that  great  sin  in  the  matter  of  Bathsheba 
and  Uriah.  Superficial  people  say  :  "  A  pretty  kind  of 
man  after  God's  own  heart — adulterer,  murderer,  traitor 
to  his  companion-in-arms."  Yes,  he  was  all  these,  but, 
having  fallen,  he  repented,  and  though  he  had  fallen, 
struggled  to  his  feet  again,  and  set  his  face  once  more 
towards  the  goal  on  which  he  had  so  shamefully  turned 
his  back  ;  and  so,  with  tears  and  a  humbled  heart  and 
a  strengthened  will,  made  even  his  sin  contributory  to 
his  goodness.  Therefore,  brethren,  for  us  to-day  it 
remains  as  a  great  and  blessed  truth  that  God  looks  not 
only  on  our  actions,  but  on  our  aspirations,  and  that 
the  set  of  a  life,  the  drift  of  its  tendency,  is  recognized 
by  Him.  Although  wild  gusts  of  passion  may  sweep 
the  surface  in  the  opposite  direction,  and  cross-cm'rents 
may  agitate  it,  yet  a  great,  deep,  dominant  force  is  the 
thing  that  determines  a  life.  Now,  you  Christian  people, 
remember  that,  unless  it  can  be  written  down  of  you  and 
me,  "  a  good  man,"  we  have  no  business  to  call  ourselves 
Christians. 

We  come  to  the  second  layer,  hfting  oS  the  first — 
"  full  of  the  Holy  Ghost." 


224  WHAT   A   GOOD   MAN    IS 

II.    Christ's  Way  of  Making  a  Good  Man. 

The  characteristic  gift  and  promise  of  Christianity 
is  a  Divine  Helper,  and  help  to  mould  our  characters 
into  conformity  with  the  Divine  will.  Amongst  our 
orthodox  churches,  we  far  too  frequently  put  the  vital 
centre  of  the  Christian  Revelation,  in  pardon,  or,  as  it 
is  called,  "  justification,"  and  God  forbid  that  I  should 
even  for  a  moment  seem  to  diminish  the  importance  of 
that.  But,  dear  brother,  your  Christianity  will  be  a 
most  superficial  thing,  and  may  easily  tend  to  become 
a  minister  of  unrighteousness  and  not  of  righteousness, 
unless  you  keep  clearly  in  view  that  pardon,  "  accept- 
ance in  the  Beloved,"  and  all  the  rest  of  what  to  many 
people  constitutes  the  whole  Gospel  message,  is  but  a 
means  to  an  end,  and  that  the  end  is  that  we  should 
"  walk  not  after  the  flesh  but  after  the  spirit,"  or,  if  you 
want  it  put  into  more  modern  words,  not  that  we  should 
be  forgiven  men,  but  that,  being  forgiven,  we  should  be 
good  men. 

There  is  another  common  misapprehension  amongst 
us  which  is  often  fostered  by  the  kind  of  sermons  that 
are  preached,  and  the  meditations  that  are  indulged 
in,  on  this  commemoration  day  of  Pentecost,  that  the 
special  gifts  which  are  included  in  the  gift  of  the  Holy 
Spirit  are  those  which  are  expressed  by  miracles  and 
tongues  on  the  one  hand,  or  which  are  expressed  by 
splendid  endowments  and  exceptional  intellectual  or 
other  gifts,  on  the  other.     So  people  will  say  that  Paul 


WHAT   A    GOOD    MAN    IS  225 

was  inspired,  or,  in  a  modified  fashion,  that  others  of 
the  great  religious  geniuses  of  the  ages,  Origen,  Augus- 
tine, John  Bunyan,  were  inspired.  But  my  text  is  a 
concrete  example  of  the  great  truth  that  it  becomes  all 
us  Christian  people  to  realize  far  more  than  we  do,  viz., 
that  the  chosen  field  in  which  the  Spirit  of  God  operates 
in  the  Church  is  neither  that  of  transient,  supernatural 
gifts,  as  they  are  called,  nor  that  of  the  exceptional 
endowments  of  great  saints,  geniuses,  teachers,  or 
organizers,  but  that  of  the  humble  work — humble  as 
our  vulgar  conceptions  think  it,  but  to  Him  the  highest 
— of  moulding  and  refining  quiet,  commonplace,  ordinary 
people  into  the  image  of  Jesus  Christ.  That  is  a  grander 
thing  than  all  the  more — to  the  world's  eye — magnifi- 
cent gifts.  "  Whether  there  be  tongues  they  shall 
cease  " — be  it  so.  "  Whether  there  be  knowledge  it 
shall  vanish  away" — be  it  so.  But  the  greater  and 
more  permanent  gift  is  bestowed  upon  any  poor  soul 
that  wants  it,  the  gift  of  a  Divine  Power  to  mould  heavy 
clay,  and  to  shape  it  into  an  image  of  serene  and  perfect 
beauty.  It  is  greater  to  make  saints  out  of  sinners 
like  you  or  me  than  it  is  to  make  a  Paul  out  of  a  saint, 
or  to  give  the  power  of  raising  from  the  dead,  or  speaking 
with  tongues.  The  gift  which  the  Gospel  brings  is  first 
and  foremost  the  gift  of  the  Divine  Spirit,  whose  highest 
work  is  to  change  our  earthUness  into  the  likeness  of 
our  Lord,  and  so  to  make  us  "  free  from  the  law  of  sin 
and  death." 

M.S.  15 


226  WHAT   A   GOOD   MAN    18 

Now,  I  do  not  mean  to  cast  any  kind  of  scorn  or  con- 
tempt upon  the  moral  excellences  of  men  who  are  not 
Christians ;  when  I  say  that,  taking  it  in  the  general, 
and  looking  at  what  constitutes  goodness  in  its  deepest 
aspect,  according  to  which  nothing  is  perfectly  good 
except  work  done  in  obedience  to,  and  love  towards, 
God,  there  is  no  goodness  possible  for  humanity,  but 
on  condition  of  the  reception  of  its  Divine  Helper,  the 
Strengthener  who  comes  to  stand  by  our  sides,  to  rein- 
force in  us  that  which  is  feeble,  to  raise  and  support  that 
which  is  low,  to  illumine  that  which  is  blind,  that  we 
may  become  what  without  Him  we  shall  never  be  in  its 
whole  depth  and  sweep,  good  men  after  God's  pattern. 

I  need  only  ask  you  to  be  honest  with  yourselves,  to 
set  before  your  consciousness  your  own  inner  basenesses 
and  weaknesses,  your  own  wavering  resolutions  and 
fragmentary  strivings  after  good ;  the  foiling  of  your 
noblest  purposes  which  you  have  so  often  experienced. 
Do  these  not  make  you  feel  that  if  there  is  one  thing 
that  would  be  a  gospel  to  you,  it  would  be  to  assure  you 
that  there  is  a  power  not  yourself — something  more 
than  "  a  stream  of  tendency,"  not  yourself,  but  working 
in  you,  which  "  makes  for  righteousness  "  ?  Brethren, 
any  man  who  has  ever  honestly  set  himself  to  mend 
himself,  and  to  get  out  of  himself  the  evil  spot  that  is 
in  him,  will  leap  to  that  promise,  and  feel,  "  Ah  !  that 
is  what  I  want,"  and  all  facile  philosophical  objections 
will  be  swept  away  Uke  so  much  thin  mist  and  cloud- 


WHAT   A   GOOD   MAN   IS  227 

wrack  before  the  north  wind,  when  the  great  need  is 
felt,  which  always  is  felt  when  a  man  honestly  tries  to 
make  himself  "  a  good  man." 

But  let  us  note  that  the  possession  of  that  Divine 
Spirit,  which  makes  men  good,  is  a  full  possession  ; 
"  ftdl  of  the  Spirit."  Yes,  a  scanty  gift  will  do  little  to 
make  a  good  man.  If  a  river  has  been  evaporated  away 
by  summer  heats,  so  that  there  is  only  a  thread  of  water 
running  down  the  broad,  bleached  bed  of  tumbled  stones, 
there  will  be  no  scour  in  that  thin  thread,  to  sweep  away 
any  of  the  obstructions  and  litter  that  choke  the  chan- 
nel, nor  will  there  be  any  water  to  spare  to  fertilize  the 
banks.  It  needs  to  be  a  river  brimming  from  side  to 
side  that  floats  away  the  filth,  and  can  be  led  off  to  irrigate 
and  fertihze  the  pastures  on  either  bank.  A  scanty 
possession  of  the  Divine  Spirit  will  never  make  a  good 
man. 

There  is  a  possibiUty  opened  in  my  text,  a  possibility 
for  us  all,  that  the  whole  nature  of  us,  heart,  and  mind, 
and  will — and  however  else  you  may  choose  to  label  its 
several  operations — shall  be  penetrated  by  this  Divine 
influence.  In  another  metaphor,  we  are  told  that  the 
great  work  of  Jesus  Christ  is  to  plunge  us  into  the  fiery 
baptism  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  We  are  immersed  in  it ; 
it  dominates  and  pervades  our  whole  nature.  The  two 
emblems  mean  the  same.  Here  is  an  empty  wine-skin, 
all  hard  and  cracked  ;  you  pour  in  the  sparkling  bene- 
diction, and  as  you  pour,  it  swells  and  smooths  itself 


228  WHAT   A   GOOD    MAN    IS 

out.  Into  our  limp,  flaccid,  empty  spirits  there  may 
come  the  quickening  blessing  of  that  outpoured  gift, 
and  the  vessel  may  be  filled.  But  that  is  not  all.  The 
wine-skin  stretches  to  its  utmost,  and  if  more  is  poured 
in,  the  skin  bursts  and  the  wine  is  spilt.  But  our  vessels 
are  elastic,  and  the  walls  of  our  hearts  can  widen  out, 
like  the  tent  in  the  fairy  story,  according  to  their  contents. 
Though  full,  we  may  be  still  further  filled,  and  receive 
more  of  that  of  which  already  we  have  received  as  much 
as  the  moment's  capacity  makes  possible.  Such  is 
the  ideal ;  what  about  the  reality  ?  I  have  spoken  of 
a  broad  stream,  and  a  trickle  of  water  down  the  middle 
of  its  dry  bed.  That  the  Church  of  Christ  should  be 
such  as  it  is  to-day,  the  Spirit  of  Christ  being  such  as 
He  is  to-day  and  always,  is  the  shame  and  the  scandal 
of  the  church,  the  laughter  of  the  world,  the  wonder  of 
angels,  and  the  sorrow  of  Christ. 

And  now  there  is  one  more  word.  We  have  to  get 
down  to  the  bottom  layer  of  all — "  full  of  the  Holy 
Ghost,  and  of  faith."  There  you  come  to  the  secret  of 
the  whole. 

III.  The  Condition  of  being  Filled  with  the 
Divine  Spirit 

is  being  full  of  faith.  That  is  to  say,  trust  Jesus  Christ, 
and  in  that  trust  you  are  united  to  Him  in  such  real, 
not  forensic  or  artificial  or  theological  fashion,  that  his 
life  is  communicated  to  you  in  the  measure  of  your 
faith.     That  is  the  Gospel.    Faith,  about  which  we  talk 


WHAT    A    GOOD    MAN    IS  229 

so  much,  and  often  "  darken  counsel  by  words  without 
wisdom,"  seems  to  me  to  be  simply  the  outgoing  of  the 
spirit,  in  trust  and  lowly  desire  and  conscious  necessity, 
to  that  great  Saviour,  It  is  like  the  inflation  of  the 
lung  that  the  life-breath  may  rush  in,  and  it  surely  will. 
Now,  dear  brethren,  if  this  is  the  bottom  layer,  the 
underlying  stratum  of  the  whole  section  that  we  have 
been  looking  at,  and  if,  beginning  with  the  flowers  on 
the  surface,  you  come  down  to  this  at  last — then  the 
great  practical  lesson  is  that  a  Christian  man  or  woman 
is  solely  responsible  for  the  measure  of  the  Spirit  of  God 
which  he  or  she  may  realize.  And  that  raises  a  serious 
question  for  us  all.  I  have  spoken  about  the  contrast 
between  the  ideal  and  the  reality.  Ah !  Whose  fault  is 
that  ?  Our  own  ;  nobody  else's.  Not  God's.  On  this 
Whitsuntide,  when  people  are  talking  about  a  Pentecost, 
the  world  may  well  turn  to  us  and  say,  "  There  was  a 
rushing  mighty  wind,  but  it  has  gone  all  calm  now. 
There  were  tongues  of  fire ;  they  have  all  flickered  out. 
Your  gift  was  a  transient  gift."  And  what  are  we  to 
say  ?  Why,  this — the  gift  was  a  perennial  gift.  It  is 
to-day  as  really  and  as  fully  as  it  ever  was.  You  Chris- 
tian people  sometimes,  when  you  feel  the  contrast 
between  the  ideal  and  the  reality,  the  fulness  of  the 
possibihty  and  the  emptiness  of  the  realization,  pray 
for  a  fuller  outpouring  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  and  a  new 
Pentecost.  You  do  not  need  to  pray  for  fresh  fire ; 
the  fire  is  burning  if  you  will  only  let  Him  baptize  you 


230  WHAT   A   GOOD   MAN   IS 

in  it.  You  do  not  need  to  pray  for  a  rushing,  mighty 
wind  to  sweep  away  stagnation  and  malaria  ;  the  wind 
is  blowing,  if  only  you  will  let  it  freshen  your  atmosphere 
and  fill  your  sails.  See  that  you  take  what  you  have, 
the  Spirit  in  its  fulness,  lest  there  should  be  taken  away 
from  you,  and  from  the  church  to  which  we  belong, 
that  which  it  seemeth  we  have.  If  you  forget  every- 
thing else  that  I  have  been  saying,  remember  the  three 
strokes  of  this  portrait,  and  be  sure  of  this,  that  if  ever 
you  are  to  be  rightly  called  "  a  good  man,"  it  will  be 
because,  and  only  because,  you  are  "  full  of  the  Holy 
Ghost  and  of  faith." 


The  Original  and  the  Copy — 
I.   Imitative    Miracles 

And  Peter  said  unto  him,  ^neas,  Jesus  Christ  maketh  thee 
whole  ;  arise,   and  make  thy  bed.  .  .  . — Acts  ix.   34. 

Peter  .  .  .  said,   Tabitha,  arise.  .  .  . — Acts  ix.  40. 

They  stoned  Stephen  .  .  .  and  he  kneeled  down,  and  cried  with 
a  loud  voice,  "  Lord !  lay  not  this  sin  to  their  charge."  And  when 
he  had  said  this,  he  fell  asleep. — Acts  vii.  60. 

YOU  will  understand  why  I  have  ventured  to  isolate 
and  connect  these  three  fragments,  if  you  will  con- 
sider that  likeness  to  Jesus  is  the  all-comprehending 
law  of  Christian  hfe,  and  that  the  thought  of  being  hke 
Christ  in  death  is  a  pillow  on  which  dying  Christians  lay 
quiet  heads,  and  that  perfectly  to  be  like  Christ  is  the 
great  hope  that  fills  with  radiance  the  vast,  dim  future. 
I  have  put  these  texts  together,  because  they  have 
one  feature  in  common — they  show  us  how  the  first 
disciples  consciously  endeavoured  to  shape  their  Chris- 
tian lives  and  works  after  the  example  of  their 
Master,  and  to  mould  their  deaths  so  that  they  should 
be  conformable  to  His.  Thus  early  had  the  Chris- 
tian   instinct     been      developed,    that     seeks     after 


232  IMITATIVE   MIRACLES 

likeness  to  Jesus  as  the  all-sufficient  aim,  and  that 
recognizes  Him  as  giving  in  Himself  the  supreme  law 
for  life  and  companionship  in  death. 

The  first  two  of  my  texts  come  from  the  accounts  of 
two  miracles  wrought  in  one  journey  by  the  Apostle 
Peter.  In  both  of  them  the  endeavour  to  assimilate 
his  action  to  his  Master's  is  plain.  He  remembered 
how  a  palsied  man  had  been  brought  to  Jesus,  and 
been  bid,  ' '  Arise,  take  up  thy  bed,  and  go  into  thy 
house."  The  similar  sufferer  that  Peter  healed  was 
already  in  his  house,  but  the  Apostle  tries  to  get  as 
near  his  Lord's  fashion  of  working  as  he  can,  and  so  he 
says,  "Arise;  make  thy  bed."  The  commandment 
was  not  only  intended  to  demonstrate  to  the  bystanders 
and  to  confirm  to  the  patient  the  reality  of  the  cure, 
but  it  was  a  touching  token  of  how  the  Apostle's 
memory  had  gone  back,  and  how  he  pleased  himself  by 
making  even  a  small  detail  in  his  work  as  like  Christ's 
as  he  could. 

The  same  intention  is  equally  obvious  in  the  other 
instance.  Peter  remembered  how  our  Lord  had  cleared 
a  death-chamber  of  noisy,  professional  wallers,  and 
so  he  put  forth  the  true  mourners  from  the  upper  room 
where  Dorcas  was  lying  dead.  He  remembered  the 
very  Aramaic  words  with  which  Jesus  had  raised 
Jairus'  daughter,  and  which  are  preserved  to  us  in  the 
Gospel  which,  in  some  sense,  is  supposed  to  be  his  ; 
and  again,  he  pleased  himself,  in  a  naive  and  innocent 


IMITATIVE    MIRACLES  233 

fashion,  by  copying  their  very  sound,  and  for  that 
purpose  availed  himself  of  the  Jewish,  rather  than  of 
the  Greek,  name  of  the  dead  woman.  Thinking  of 
"  Talitha  cumi,"  he  said  to  her,"  Tabitha  cumi  " — 
the  change  of  one  letter.  There  were  differences,  of 
course — great  differences,  as  significant  as  the  resem- 
blances, and  I  shall  have  a  word  or  two  to  say  about 
them  presently — but  the  intentional  Hkeness,  the  con- 
scious imitation,  is  unmistakable.  So  Christ  is  the 
example  for  the  life  and  work  of  the  disciple. 

Then,  if  we  turn  to  our  other  text,  the  very  same 
imitative  impulse  is  at  work  there,  in  the  solemn 
moment  of  death.  For  Stephen  remembers  how  on 
the  cross  his  Master  had  said  :  "  Father,  into  thy  hands 
I  commend  My  Spirit,"  and  he  breathes  a  prayer 
in  which  the  differences  are  as  instructive  as  the  resem- 
blances: "Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit."  He  re- 
members how  his  Model  had  said ;  ' '  Father,  for- 
give them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do,"  and 
although  there  was  little  ignorance  to  lighten  the  crime 
of  the  mob  that  stoned  the  servant,  in  comparison  with 
the  ignorance  that  alleviated  the  guilt  of  the  rulers  that 
crucified  the  Master,  yet  the  servant  says  :  ' '  Lord, 
lay  not  this  sin  to  their  charge,"  and  so,  shaping  his 
death  after  the  pattern  showed  him  on  the  Cross,  he 
changes  its  grisly  shape  into  the  soft  similitude  of 
quiet  slumber,  "and  when  he  had  said  this,  he  fell 
asleep." 


234  IMITATIVE    MIRACLES 

Now  with  that  exposition  of  my  purpose,  I  have 
really  said  nearly  all  that  I  wish  to  say.  But  we  may 
expand  the  consideration  of  the  two  thoughts  sug- 
gested by  these  instances,  namely,  that  Hkeness  to 
Christ  is  the  aim  of  a  true  disciple  in  life,  and  that 
likeness  to  Christ  is  the  comfort  and  victory  of  a  true 
disciple  in  death  ;  and  I  come  now  to  deal  with  the 
former  of  these,  reserving  consideration  of  the  latter 
to  another  occasion. 

Likeness  to  Christ,  then,  is  the  aim  of  the  true  disciple 
in  life  and  work. 

One  great  peculiarity  of  the  Christian  system  is 
that  it  entrusts  very  largely  the  task  of  moral  per- 
fection to  two  things,  love  and  contemplation.  We 
all  know  how  subtly  love  assimilates,  so  that  two 
lovers  grow  more  and  more  like  each  other,  in  regard 
even  to  small  peculiarities  of  tone  and  manner  and 
trivial  habits.  It  is  not  otherwise  with  regard  to  the 
love  that  is  turned  to  Jesus  Christ,  We  grow  hke 
Him  in  the  direct  measure  of  our  love  to  Him.  Simi- 
larly, contemplation  assimilates.  "  We  all,  with 
unveiled  face  beholding  and  reflecting  the  glory  of 
the  Lord,  are  changed  into  the  same  image  from  glory  to 
glory."  If  our  thoughts  are  habitually  turned  to  Christ 
He  will  habitually  diffuse  Himself  through  our  lives,  and 
we  shall  be  growingly  fashioned  after  His  hkeness.  The 
eye  that  gazes  on  the  sun  has  a  tiny  sun  painted  on  its 
orb.     The  face  that  turns  to  the  glowing  west  is  rud- 


IMITATIVE    MIRACLES  235 

died  with  a  reflected  brightness.  A  man  is  moulded 
by  his  company,  and  if  we  keep  company  with  Jesus 
Christ  we  shall  inevitably,  though  not  without  efiort, 
grow  Uke  him.  Love,  then,  breeds  likeness,  and  con- 
templation transforms. 

But  our  texts  have  a  special  reference,  and  point 
to  the  way  in  which,  in  the  work  of  the  Christian  life, 
the  pattern  of  Jesus  Christ  tended  to  reproduce  itself. 
Apart  altogether  from  the  comparatively  unimportant 
points  of  mere  detail  in  which  that  assimilating 
tendency  was  working  in  the  instances  before  us,  and 
which  are  interesting  mainly  as  showing  how  strong 
the  feehng  was  in  the  Apostle's  own  mind,  let  me 
suggest  one  or  two  points. 

The  Christian  life  is  to  copy  Christ's  quick  compassion. 

If  we  are  living  in  the  love  and  beholding  of  Jesus 
Christ,  we  shall  learn  from  Him  what  Peter  learned 
from  Him,  to  cherish  a  swift  sympathy  with  human 
miseries  of  all  sorts,  that  does  not  wait  to  be  asked 
in  order  to  do  its  best  to  aUeviate.  If  you  will  look  at 
these  two  instances  of  Peter's  miracles,  you  will  see 
that  in  neither  of  the  cases  is  there  any  sign  that 
he  was  asked  to  do  what  he  did.  He  "found" 
.tineas  ;  they  did  not  bring  him  as  they  brought  the  man 
to  Jesus,  and  nobody  said  to  him  "  cure  this  man,  we 
pray  you."  But,  seeing  him  there,  Peter's  heart  welled 
up  and  welled  over.  The  eye  that  beheld  touched  a 
heart  that  felt,  and  the  heart  that  felt  immediately 


236  IMITATIVE    MIRACLES 

moved  a  hand  that  healed,  and  he  said,  "  ^Eneas  !  Jesus 
Christ  maketh  thee  whole."  He  had  learnt  that 
sympathy,  not  only  from  communion  with  the  Spirit  of 
His  Master,  but  from  remembering  the  many  times  in 
which  the  Master  Himself  had  healed  unasked. 

But  let  us  remember  that  Christ's  external,  unbesought 
spontaneous  gifts  of  a  heart  filled  with  love  and  a  hand 
"  open  as  day  to  melting  charity,"  were  but  transient  and 
small  symbols  of  that  great  love  which  waited  not  for 
man's  beseeching,  nor  tarried  for  men's  cries  ;  but  before 
they  called  had  answered,  and  whilst  they  were  yet 
spealdng,  had  heard.  For  Christ  Himself  is  the  outcome 
of  that  unbesought,  undesired,  unexpected,  and  too 
often  unbelieved.  Divine  love  which  is  its  own  motive, 
and  wells  up,  not  because  it  is  drawn  out  by  any  pumps 
and  handles  of  human  petitions,  but  because,  deep  down 
in  the  hidden  abysses,  there  lies  that  overflowing  fountain 
which  must  have  a  way,  and  must  come  to  the  alleviation 
of  the  sorrows,  and  especially  of  the  sins,  of  us  poor  men. 
They  who  live  near  Jesus  Christ  ought  to,  and  will,  have 
a  keener  sensitiveness  to  the  world's  miseries  than  any 
besides.  They  who  thus  have  caught  the  Spirit  of  the 
Lord  that  came,  not  because  men  asked  Him,  but  because 
He  loved  them,  will  not  wait  to  be  impelled  by  anything 
but  the  sight  of  misery  and  the  possession  of  power  to 
relieve  it.  Jesus  Christ  not  only  came  spontaneously, 
but  He  has  to  "  pray  us,  with  much  entreaty,  to  receive 
the  gift,"  and  so  His  servants,  who  have  caught  His 


IMITATIVE    MIRACLES  237 

spirit,  have  to  learn  to  press  upon  men  that  which  they 
know  not  that  they  need,  and  to  carry  to  the  world  an 
undesired  and  unwelcome,  and  an  often  rejected,  gift. 
If  we  are  in  loving  touch  with  Jesus  Christ,  we  shall  look 
upon  men  as  He  did,  and  be  eager  to  help  them, whether 
they  will  accept  or  whether  they  will  not.  But  if  pro- 
fessing Christians  go  through  this  sad  world  with  httle 
feeling  of  its  miseries,  and  little  experience  of  the  spon- 
taneous impulse  to  lighten  them,  I  would  fain  know  what 
sign  of  Christianity  their  lives  present. 

But,  again,  the  disciple  is  to  copy  Christ's  care  for  the 
body  as  well  as  the  soul.  Peter  had  gone  down  to  Lydda 
to  look  after  the  little  church  there,  and  to  teach  it  the 
truth.  He  did  not  say,  "  Oh  !  I  do  not  look  after  ^neas 
and  dead  w^omen  ;  I  am  here  for  a  higher  and  sacreder 
purpose,  to  preach  Jesus  Christ  to  dead  souls,"  but  he 
recognized  that  any  form  of  human  sorrow,  corporeal  or 
spiritual,  was  equally  in  his  commission — ay,  and  in  his 
power,  to  deal  with.  And  so,  if  we  are  Christians,  we 
shall  not  be  lop-sided  in  our  sympathies,  nor  fancy,  as 
some  people  used  to  do,  (and  some  of  their  descendants 
are  alive  still),  that  the  Christian  Church — or,  rather,  do 
not  let  us  shelter  ourselves  under  the  vagueness  of  the 
collective  term  "  church,"  but  apply  the  thoughts  to 
ourselves — that  the  Christian  man  or  woman  has  little  to 
do  with  mere  physical  and  external  sorrows.  Have 
you  and  I  nothing  to  do  with  the  drink  demon  ?  Is  it  no 
part  of  the  responsibility  of  citizens  who  are  also  Chris- 


238  IMITATIVE    MIRACLES 

tians  to  have  regard  to  the  conditions  of  life  in  the 
slums  ?  Have  we  no  commission  to  help  to  alter  these 
conditions  which  make  decency — to  say  nothing  of 
refinement  or  Christianity — an  impossibihty  ?  We 
ought,  by  virtue  of  living  near  to  Jesus  Christ,  to  be 
foremost  in  every  work  that  bears  on  the  bodies  and 
bodily  conditions,  as  well  as  on  the  souls,  of  men.  And 
surely  we  are  not  so  absurd  as  to  fancy  that  we  can  chop 
the  inseparable  man — the  individual — into  two,  and 
whilst  his  body  is  living  like  an  animal,  that  his  soul  has 
much  chance  of  being  saved.  Remember  the  Apostle- 
missionary  who  went  down  to  look  after  the  saints,  and 
found  his  vocation  in  a  palsied  man  and  a  dying  woman. 

The  disciple  is  to  copy  Christ's  self- surrender. 

Is  my  work  in  any  measure,  or  in  any  respect,  worthy 
to  be  said  to  have  been  touched  with  that  holy  fire  of 
Christ's  example  which  purges  all  that  it  touches,  and 
transforms  dead  rubbish  into  its  own  likeness  ?  When  I 
think  that  the  climax  of  Christ's  work  was  a  Cross,  I  may 
well  shrink  from  saying  that  my  love  to  Him  has  moulded 
my  work  into  any  resemblance  to  His.  Brethren,  the 
thought  is  too  solemn,  and  has  too  sharp  a  sting  for  each 
of  us,  to  be  much  spoken  about.  I  pray  you,  take  to  it 
your  own  hearts,  and  remember  that  unless  our  Christian 
life  and  our  Christian  activity  are,  in  some  measure, 
assimilated  to  our  Master's,  they  have  little  right  to  the 
epithet  of  Christian. 

I  need  only  say  a  few  words  with  regard  to  the  diver- 


IMITATIVE   MIRACLES  239 

gencies,  which  are  as  striking  as  the  resemblances,  be- 
tween the  servant's  work  and  the  Master's.  "  ^Eneas, 
Jesus  Christ  maketh  thee  whole.  Never  mind  about  me, 
Peter."  Jesus  Christ  never  pointed  to  anyone  else,  in 
heaven  or  on  earth,  as  being  the  source  of  the  power  of 
which  He  was  merely  the  channel ;  the  apostle  had  to  do 
so.  So  let  us  hide  ourselves  behind  our  Lord.  The  prop, 
that  holds  up  some  great  trophy  to  the  eyes  of  the  world, 
is  behind  the  trophy,  and  hidden  by  it.  The  herald  is  not 
to  blow  his  own  name  or  praises  through  his  trumpet, 
but  his  King's,  and  is  forgotten  when  the  royal  progress 
has  come.  "  He  must  increase,  and  I  must  decrease." 
Minister,  teacher,  Christian  worker !  do  not  obtrude 
yourself  in  front  of  your  Master.  Never  mind  whether 
anybody  sees  you  or  not,  as  long  as  they  see  Him.  It  is 
blessed 

"  To  fade  in  the  light  of  the  planet  we  love ; 
To  fade  in  its  light,  and  to  die." 

In  Hke  manner,  when  Peter  was  with  Dorcas,  "  he 
kneeled  down  and  prayed  "  before  he  dared  to  speak  the 
word  of  power,  and,  instead  of  copying  his  Master  in 
laying  his  hand  upon  her  before  she  came  to  life,  which 
would  have  looked,  as  it  did  in  the  Lord's  case,  as  if  the 
hand  communicated  the  vitality,  he  only  put  it  out  to 
help  her  like  a  brother,  when  the  Ufe  had  come.  But  yet, 
with  unfaltering  confidence,  before  he  had  made  the 
experiment,  he  was  so  sure  of  the  power  that  Christ  had 


240 


IMITATIVE    MIRACLES 


given  him  that  he  said,  "  Jesus  Christ  maheth  thee  whole." 
So,  brethren,  if  you  expect  other  people  to  beheve  your 
word,  speak  it  out  as  if  you  beUeved  it  yourself.  For 
men,  who,  having  Kttle  personal  experience  of  Christ's 
healing  power,  have  but  little  confidence  in  announcing 
it  to  others,  will  have  the  fate  of  the  seven  sons  of  Sceva, 
on  whom  the  spirit  that  they  tried  to  exorcise  turned, 
and  said,  "  Jesus  we  know  ;  and  Paul  we  know  " — the 
mighty  Source  of  salvation,  and  the  unhesitating,  un- 
faltering proclaimer  of  it — "  but  who  are  ye  ?  " 

Likeness  to  Christ  is  the  aim  of  the  true  Christian's  Ufe 
and  work.  You  see  in  shops  poor  little  plaster  casts  of 
the  great  statues  that  enchant  the  world  ;  caricatures 
they  sometimes  look  like,  and  they  are  wrought  in  a 
worthless,  perishable  material.  Well,  if  we  cannot  do 
better,  let  us  try  to  make  such  a  cast  of  the  serene 
perfectness  of  Christ's  life  in  our  little  lives.  The 
original  is  marble  ;  our  copy  is  plaster  of  Paris.  All  the 
sharp  hnes  may  be  blunted  in  our  attempted  reproduc- 
tion, and  the  beauty  all  but  gone,  and  yet  there  may  be 
a  faint  hint  of  Hkeness.  People  whose  aesthetic  per- 
ceptions are  but  slightly  cultivated  do  not  see  much 
difference  between  Michael  Angelo's  tremendous  statues 
and  the  little  copies  of  them  that  you  can  buy  on  the 
quays  at  Florence.  And  some  people  who  cannot  look 
at  Jesus  Christ,  or  who  will  not  look  at  Him,  and  have 
not,  perhaps,  grown  up  enough  to  appreciate  the  Divine 
perfection  of  that  life,  may  have  their  defective  power 


IMITATIVE   MIRACLES  241 

of  appreciation  stimulated  by  looking  at  us,  and  may 
be  brougbt  to  say,  "  If  the  copy  is  fair,  so  much  fairer 
than  the  average  men  around  us,  how  fair  must  the 
Original  be  ;  and  how  mighty  must  be  the  power  which 
out°of  such  worthless,  cheap  material,  can  fashion  that 
which  has  a  hint  of  Jesus,  though  it  is  so  incomplete  a  hke- 
ness  !  "  We  are  here  in  the  world  to  make  Him  appre- 
hensible, admired,  beUeved  and  trusted,  by  our  brethren. 
Let  us  keep  near  Him  in  the  secret  place  that  our  faces 
may  shine  with  reflected  lustre,  and  then  come  down 
into  the  camp  to  let  our  Hght  so  shine  that  men  may 
glorify  the  Uncreated  Light  at  which  it  was  kindled. 


Ifi 


The  Original  and  the  Copy — 
II.  ''  Conformable  to  His  Death  " 

And  they  stoned  Stephen  calling  upon  God,  and  saying,  Lord 
Jesus,  receive  my  spirit.  And  he  kneeled  and  cried  with  a  loud 
voice.  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  their  charge.  And  when  he 
had  said  this  he  fell  asleep. — Acts  vii.  59,  60. 

THE  previous  sermon  was  principally  directed  to 
dealing  with  two  of  Peter's  miracles,  the  heaUng 
of  the  palsied  iEneas  and  the  raising  of  the  dead  Dorcas, 
which  were  evidently  modelled  after  the  fashion  of 
our  Lord's  works.  They  suggested  the  thought  that 
the  aim  of  a  true  Christian  in  his  life  and  work  should 
be  likeness  to  the  Lord.  I  complete  the  considerations 
on  which  we  entered  then  by  my  remarks  now,  which 
are  mainly  directed  to  the  death  of  the  first  martyr, 
which  is  evidently  modelled  upon  Christ's  death.  He 
teaches  us  how  to  live  ;  He  teaches  us  how  to  die. 
So  from  the  words  before  us  we  draw  the  one  thought 
of  what  death  becomes  to  a  man  who  is  able,  by  faith 
and  love,  to  meet  it  as  Jesus  Christ  met  it.      It  becomes 


"CONFORMABLE  TO  HIS  DEATH"   243 

I.    A  Willing  and  Trustful  Surrender. 

I  need  not,  I  suppose,  spend  time  in  pointing  out 
the  evident  traces  of  a  deliberate  imitation  of  the  great 
Example  in  the  last  words  of  the  proto-martyr,  but 
the  difference  between  the  dying  Christ's  words  and 
the  dying  Stephen's  are  as  instructive  as  the  resem- 
blances, and  fling  up  these  into  greater  prominence. 
I  do  not  think  it  is  fanciful,  from  that  point  of  view, 
to  lay  stress  on  the  differences  in  the  order  of  the  two 
prayers.  It  was  at  a  very  early  stage  of  the  long  agony 
of  the  Cross  that  Jesus  Christ  prayed  that  His  mur- 
derers might  be  forgiven,  and  it  was  at  the  end  of  the 
agony  that  He  said :  "  Into  Thy  hands  I  commend 
my  spirit."  But  Stephen  reversed  the  order,  for  his 
first  cry  was:  "Receive  my  spirit,"  and  his  second 
was:  "Lay  not  this  sin  to  their  charge."  I  think 
that  is  a  hint  that  the  servant  had  not  attained  the 
sublime  patience  with  which  the  Lord  endured  the 
long  agony  of  the  Cross.  No  wonder  if,  bruised  beneath 
the  cruel,  heavy  stones,  and  bleeding  from  many  a 
jagged  wound,  he,  Uke  many  another  sufferer  at 
the  stake  or  on  a  bed,  cried  to  the  Lord  to  take  him 
out  of  his  pain. 

Then  the  other  difference  which  springs  to  sight  on 
the  most  superficial  reading,  is  that,  while  Jesus  ad- 
dressed the  Father,  Stephen  addressed  Jesus.  No 
doubt  the  prayer,  "  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  spirit,"  • 
was  the  answer  of  faith  to  the  vision  that  had  been 


244   "CONFORMABLE  TO  HIS  DEATH" 

granted  of  the  opened  heavens  and  the  Christ  sprung 
to  His  feet  to  help  His  servant.  But,  however  Httle 
conscious  of  theological  inferences  to  be  deduced  from 
this  cry  to  Jesus  Stephen  was,  the  fact  that  here,  in- 
stinctively and  most  naturally,  at  that  early  stage 
of  the  history  of  the  Christian  Church,  the  dying  martyr 
turned  to  Christ  with  a  prayer  does  witness  to  his  belief 
in  Christ's  divine  nature  and  Lordship  over  life  and 
death.  Strange  that  a  dying  man  should  cry  thus 
for  help  to  a  dead  man  who  had  not  been  able  to  save 
himself!  Inexplicable,  as  I  beheve,  on  any  rational 
ground,  without  the  admission  of  the  great  facts  of  the 
Resurrection  and  Ascension.  If  Christ  were  risen 
indeed,  and  only  if  so,  it  was  natural  that  the  martyr 
should  turn  to  the  Crucified,  and  pray :  "  Receive  my 
spirit." 

There  is  another  slight,  but  very  real,  difference  in  the 
two  prayers,  in  that  Jesus  said,  "  /  commend,^''  laying 
greatest  prominence  on  His  own  act  of  voluntary 
decease,  while  the  servant  said,  "  Receive,"  meaning 
substantially  the  same  thing,  but  with  a  difference  of 
perspective,  as  it  were,  and  giving  greater  prominence 
to  the  Christ-act  of  reception  than  to  the  servant's  act 
of  surrender. 

Now,  all  these  differences,  which  though  slight,  are 
instructive,  rest  on,  and  are  the  expression  of,  the  one 
difference  that  the  one  death  was  the  death  of  the 
Incarnate  Word,  and  the  other  was  the  death  of   the 


"CONFORMABLE  TO  HIS  DEATH"    245 

humble  servant,  and  they  hint  to  us  that,  however  close 
may  be  the  imitation  possible  to  the  best  of  His  fol- 
lowers, either  in  life  or  in  death,  there  will  always  be 
something  over,  which  cannot  be  imitated,  and  before 
which  we  can  only  adoringly  bow  and  aspire. 

But  now  turn,  briefly,  to  the  resemblances  in  this  prayer. 

I.     We  see  in  it,  first,  A  Willing  Surrender. 

Ah  !  how  different  a  death  into  which  a  believing 
will  enters,  concurring  with  a  physical  necessity  and 
accepting  it,  and  the  death  in  which  a  man  is  dragged 
out  of  Ufe  by  an  unwelcome  compulsion  arising  from 
his  bodily  condition.  He  is  like  a  man  hanging  on  the 
edge  of  a  precipice,  and  convulsively  thrusting  his 
nails  into  the  crumbhng  rock,  and  feehng  it  yielding  to 
his  touch.  To  go  out  of  life  because  we  must,  is  misery ; 
to  go  out  of  it  because  our  wills  accept  the  necessity 
is  triumph  and  victory.  The  one  is  death  indeed,  the 
other  is  the  opening  of  the  spirit  to  the  influx  of  a 
larger  hfe.  Blessed  is  he  who  at  that  last  hour  goes 
willingly,  because  he  knows  that  he  goes  after  his  Lord, 
recognizing  that  the  grave,  too,  is  a  "  place  whither 
the  Forerunner  for  us  is  entered,"  and  hears  as  he  passes 
into  the  gloom  that  Jesus  lights  up :  "  he  that  fol- 
loweth  Me  shall  not  walk  in  the  darkness,  but " — even 
there — "  shall  have  the  light  of  life."  It  is  blessed  to 
have  Him  with  us,  when  the  awful  isolation  of  death 
parts  us  from  all  others,  and  the  spot  where  we  stand 
begins  to  sink,  as  did  the  ground  round  Korah  and  his 


246   "CONFORMABLE  TO  HIS  DEATH" 

company,  and  a  gap  to  open  which  deepens  and  widens 
to  a  gulf,  across  which  the  love  that  is  closest  can  only 
cast  a  wistful  look.  The  man  that,  dying,  is  made  like 
Jesus  can  leave  earth  behind  unregretting,  and  pass 
into  the  Obscure  unfearing. 

There  is  another  thought  suggested  by  that  prayer  : 
"  Receive  my  spirit,"  namely,  that  there  dawned  before 
Stephen's  dying  eye  the  vision  of  falling,  not  into  a  vast 
dim  abyss,  but  into  soft  and  loving  hands  outstretched, 
I  spoke  of  dropping  from  a  precipice.  Do  you  expect 
to  drop  down,  down,  down,  not  knowing  into  what,  or 
do  you  expect  that  a  yard  or  two  below  your  feet  there 
will  be  stretched  out  the  hands  that  were  pierced  with 
the  nails,  and  which  will  receive  you  when  you  fall  ? 
It  is  a  blessed  thing,  dying,  to  drop  into  the  hands  of 
the  loving  Christ. 

That  prayer,  "  Receive  my  spirit,"  overlooked  all 
the  externals  of  death  and  change  of  condition,  and 
was  absorbed  in  the  calm  hope  :  "  I  shall  be  closer  to 
Him  than  ever  I  was  before."  That  is  the  one  thought 
that  enables  us  to  minimize  what  else  stands  up  gigantic 
and  threatening  at  the  close  of  every  earthly  hfe.  Much 
in  that  future  is  dim,  the  faint  light  is  peopled  with 
mysteries  ;  the  very  glories  that  are  there  are  so  remote 
from  our  experience  that  they  have  little  power  really 
to  attract  us.  But  there  is  one  hope — and  only  one,  as 
I  believe — that  makes  the  awful  prospect  of  immortal 
hfe  a  gift  and  a  joy,  and  that  is,  that  we  shall  be  with 


"  CONFORIVIABLE    TO    HIS   DEATH"        247 

Christ.  He  is  Heaven,  and  Heaven  is  He,  Stephen 
knew  very  little  of  what  he  was  to  meet  beyond  this 
earth,  but  he  knew  Whom  he  was  to  meet,  and  that  was 
enough  for  him. 

The  death,  moulded  on  Christ's,  is — 

II.    A  Calm  Putting  Away  of  Earthly  Passions. 

"  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  their  charge."  He  divested 
his  spirit,  as  it  were,  of  the  foul  stuff  of  hatred  and 
vengeance,  because  he  thought  of  the  Master  Who  had 
said,  "  Forgive  them,  for  they  know  not  what  they  do." 
I  need  only  repeat,  in  a  sentence,  what  I  have  already 
remarked  as  to  the  former  prayer,  viz.,  that  here  we 
have,  in  the  instinctive,  not  deliberate,  address  to  Jesus 
Christ  in  supphcation,  testimony  to  the  early  and  deep 
growth  of  the  highest  conception  of  Christ's  character 
in  the  primitive  Church.  Mark  how  he  not  only  speaks 
to  Christ  as  the  Divine  hearer  of  his  prayer,  but  thinks 
of  Christ  as  the  Judge  of  men.  It  is  Jesus  Whom  he 
asks  not  to  "  lay  this  sin  to  their  charge."  Is  not  that 
prayer  a  testimony,  all  the  stronger  because  incidental 
and  in  the  language  of  devotion  not  of  theology,  that 
the  first  Christians  learned  from  Christ  that  "  the 
Father  judgeth  no  man,  but  hath  committed  all 
judgment  to  the  Son  "?  That  was  the  faith  which  went 
with  the  first  martyr  to  his  death.  Let  it  be  the  faith 
which  goes  with  you  through  your  lives. 

Let  me  remind  you  of  one  other  point,  namely,  that 
this  dying  prayer  of  Stephen,  whilst  it  is  modelled  con- 


248   "CONFORMABLE  TO  HIS  DEATH" 

sciously  upon  Christ's,  is  as  consciously  modelled  in  con- 
trast to  the  dying  prayer  of  another  martyr.  In  the 
Old  Testament  we  read  of  a  certain  priest  named  Zech- 
ariah,  who  in  the  Temple-courts  was  stoned,  like  Stephen, 
by  the  rulers  and  the  mob.  His  last  words  were  :  "  The 
Lord  look  upon  it,  and  require  it."  Probably  that 
remembrance  came  to  Stephen,  and  he  then  and  there 
dehberately  chose  between  the  austere  petition  of  the 
prophet  who  had  been  trained  under  the  law  of  retri- 
bution, and  the  pitying  prayer  of  the  Christ  who  came 
to  establish  the  law  of  mercy  and  love ;  and  cried, 
"  Lord,  lay  not  this  sin  to  their  charge."  In  life  and  in 
death  it  is  for  us  to  take  the  example  of  the  Christ,  in 
our  attitude  to  all  that  are  against  us  or  hate  us. 

Lastly,  we  have  here  brought  before  us  the  death  that 
is  moulded  after  Christ's  as  being 

III.     A  Calm  Slumber. 

"  When  he  had  said  this,  he  fell  asleep."  We  need 
quiet  ere  we  can  sleep.  This  man  at  one  moment  had 
his  ears  stunned  with  the  fierce  yells  of  the  cruel  mob, 
and  his  body  tortured  with  the  sharp,  rough  stones,  and 
the  next  moment,  how  far  he  was  from  it  all !  What  a 
calm  ensued  on  the  wild  fury  !  "He  fell  asleep,"  and 
they  might  do  what  they  hked  with  the  corpse,  Stephen 
was  at  rest. 

Now  of  course  that  image  of  sleep  as  a  euphemism  for 
death  is  no  peculiar  property  of  Christianity,  but  the 
ideas  that  it  suggests  to  the  Christian  consciousness  are 


"CONFORMABLE  TO  HIS  DEATH"  249 

the  peculiar  property  of  Christianity.  Any  of  you  that 
ever  were  in  the  Vatican  will  remember  how  you  go 
down  corridors  with  Pagan  marbles  on  that  side,  and 
Christian  ones  on  this.  Against  one  wall,  in  long  rows, 
stand  the  sad  memorials,  each  of  which  has  the  de- 
spairing ending,  "  Farewell,  farewell,  for  ever  farewell." 
But  on  the  other  side  there  are  carved  no  goddesses  of 
slumber,  or  mourning  genii,  or  quenched  lamps,  or  wail- 
ing words,  but  sweet  emblems  of  a  renewed  Hfe,  and  the 
ever-recurring,  gracious  motto :  "  In  hope."  To  the 
non-Christian  that  sleep  is  eternal ;  to  the  Christian 
that  sleep  is  as  sure  of  awaking  as  is  the  sleep  of  the  body. 
The  one  affects  the  whole  man ;  the  Christian  sleep 
affects  only  the  body  and  the  connexion  with  the  outer 
world. 

"  There  is  none  other  thing  expressed. 
But  long  disquiet  merged  in  rest." 

The  Christian  sleep  of  death  does  not  seal  the  spirit  in 
torpor.  Seen  from  this  side,  death  is  sleep  ;  seen  from 
the  other  side  death  is  awaking — waking  to  an  intenser 
hfe  than  was  ever  experienced  before  ;  to  a  keenness  of 
vitaUty  compared  with  which  the  highest  consciousness 
of  existence  and  effort  that  we  have  ever  known  is  but 
as  the  stirrings  of  a  sleeper.  "  The  drowsy  pipe  of  half- 
awakened  birds  "  does  not  contrast  more  with  the  full- 
throated  notes  with  which  they  welcome  the  sun,  than 
does  Ufe  here  at  its  fullest  and  keenest  with  hfe  yonder, 


250   "CONFORMABLE  TO  HIS  DEATH" 

with  which,  when  we  awake  in  Christ's  Hkeness,  we  shall 
be  satisfied. 

I  do  not  seek  to  blink  the  fact  that,  refine  it  how  you 
may,  and  bring  to  bear  Christian  motives  and  principles 
as  you  will,  the  thing  continues  ugly  and  repellent. 
There  is  a  sickly  sentimentaUsm  that  tries  to  hide  the 
hideousness  of  death  by  fine  sayings  about  it — as  artifi- 
cial as  the  china  wreaths  of  immortelles  that  one  some- 
times sees  on  graves.  There  is  a  hard  materialism  that 
refuses  to  recognize  in  death  anything  more  than  the 
natural  end  of  natural  processes,  and  so,  in  the  most 
accurate  sense  of  the  expression,  makes  a  man  die  the 
death  of  a  dog.  There  is  a  recoiUng  dread  of  death 
which  keeps  many  a  man  all  his  hfe  in  bondage,  whenever 
he  thinks  about  it.  And  I  admit  both  that  its  repulsive 
features  remain,  and  that,  by  a  merciful  provision,  most 
men  die  quietly.  But  yet  I  say  a  Christian  man  who 
makes  his  hfe  Uke  Christ's,  and  his  death  like  His, 
passing  through  the  same  physical  experience  as  other 
men,  does  not  die  when  he  dies,  but  fives  for  ever- 
more. 

I  beseech  you,  dear  brethren,  take  the  anodyne  of 
death,  the  pledge  of  immortahty,  the  hfe  and  death  of 
Jesus  Christ  received  by  faith  into  our  hearts.  He  that 
thus  can,  living,  keep  near  the  Master,  so  as  to  become 
like  Him,  will  at  the  last  be  "  conformable  unto  His 
death,"  and  find  that  its  blackness  is  lit  up,  even  as  the 
shadows  on  sunlit  snow  are  heavenly  blue,  not  black, 


"CONFORMABLE  TO  HIS  DEATH"    251 

and  will  pass  from  the  imperfect  conformities  of  life,  by 
the  way  of  a  death  moulded  after  Christ's  pattern,  to 
the  perfect  union  where  he  shall  be  for  ever  with  the 
Lord  ;  and  be  "  like  Him,  for  he  shall  see  Him  as  He  is." 


"Without  the  Camp" 

Let  113  go  forth  therefore  unto  Him  without  the  camp,  bearing 
His  reproach.  For  here  have  we  no  continuing  citj',  but  we  seek 
one  to  come. — Heb.  xiii.  13,  14. 

CALVARY  was  outside  Jerusalem.  That  wholly  acci- 
dental and  trivial  circumstance  is  laid  hold  of  in 
the  context,  in  order  to  give  picturesque  force  to  the 
main  contention  and  purpose  of  this  Epistle.  One  of  the 
solemn  parts  of  the  ritual  of  Judaism  was  the  great  Day 
of  Atonement,  on  which  the  sacrifice  that  took  away  the 
sins  of  the  nation  was  borne  outside  the  camp,  and  con- 
sumed by  fire,  instead  of  being  partaken  of  by  the 
priests,  as  were  most  of  the  other  sacrifices.  Our  writer 
here  sees  in  these  two  roughly  parallel  things,  not  an 
argument  but  an  imaginative  illustration  of  great  truths. 
Though  he  does  not  mean  to  say  that  the  death  on 
Calvary  was  intended  to  be  pointed  to  by  the  unique 
arrangement  in  question,  he  does  mean  to  say  that  the 
coincidence  of  the  two  things  helps  us  to  grasp  two  great 
truths — one,  that  Jesus  Christ  really  did  what  that  old 
sacrifice  expressed  the  need  for  having  done,  and  the 


"WITHOUT   THE   CAMP"  253 

other  that,  in  His  death  on  Calvary,  the  Jewish  nation, 
as  one  of  the  parables  has  it,  "  cast  Him  out  of  the  vine- 
yard." In  the  context,  he  urges  this  analogy  between 
the  two  things. 

But  a  Christ  outside  the  camp  beckons  His  disciples 
to  His  side.  If  any  man  serve  Him,  he  has  to  follow 
Him,  and  the  blessedness,  as  well  as  the  duty,  of  the  ser- 
vant on  earth,  as  well  as  in  heaven,  is  to  be  where  his 
Master  is.  So  the  writer  finds  here  a  picturesque  way  to 
enforce  the  great  lesson  of  his  treatise,  namely,  that 
the  Jewish  adherent  to  Christianity  must  break  with 
Judaism.  In  the  early  stages,  it  was  possible  to  combine 
faith  in  Christ  and  adherence  to  the  Temple  and  its  ritual. 
But  now  that  by  process  of  time  and  experience  the 
Church  has  learnt  better  Who  and  what  Christ  is,  that 
which  was  in  part  has  to  be  done  away,  and  the  Christian 
Church  is  to  stand  clear  of  the  Jewish  synagogue. 

Now  it  is  to  be  distinctly  understood  that  the  words 
of  my  text,  in  the  writer's  intention,  are  not  a  general 
principle  or  exhortation,  but  that  they  are  a  special 
commandment  to  a  certain  class  under  special  circum- 
stances, and  when  we  use  them,  as  I  am  going  to  do 
now,  for  a  wider  purpose,  we  must  remember  that  that 
wider  purpose  was  by  no  means  in  the  writer's  mind. 
What  he  was  thinking  about  was  simply  the  relation 
between  the  Jewish  Christian  and  the  Jewish  com- 
munity. But  if  we  take  them  as  we  may  legitimately 
do — only  remembering  that  we  are  diverting  them  from 


254  "WITHOUT   THE    CAMP" 

their  original  intention — as  carrying  more  general 
lessons  for  us,  what  they  seem  to  teach  is  that  faithful 
discipleship  involves  detachment  from  the  world.  This 
commandment,  "  Let  us  go  forth  unto  Him  without  the 
camp,"  stands,  if  you  will  notice,  between  two  reasons 
for  it,  which  buttress  it  up,  as  it  were,  on  either  side. 
Before  it  is  enunciated,  the  writer  has  been  pointing,  as 
I  have  tried  to  show,  to  the  thought  that  a  Christ 
without  the  camp  necessarily  involves  disciples  without 
the  camp.  And  he  follows  it  with  another  reason, 
"  here  we  have  no  continuing  city,  but  we  seek  that 
which  is  to  come."  Here,  then,  is  a  general  principle, 
supported  on  either  side  by  a  great  reason. 

Let  me  first  try  to  set  before  you 

I. — What  this  Detachment  is  Not. 

The  Jewish  Christian  was  obliged  utterly  and  out- 
wardly to  break  his  connexion  with  Judaism,  on  the 
peril,  if  he  did  not,  of  being  involved  in  its  ruin,  and, 
as  was  historically  the  case  with  certain  Judaising  sects, 
of  losing  his  Christianity  altogether.  It  was  a  cruel 
necessity,  and  no  wonder  that  it  needed  this  long  letter 
to  screw  the  disciples  of  Hebrew  extraction  up  to  the 
point  of  making  the  leap  from  the  sinking  ship  to  the 
deck  of  the  one  that  floated.  The  parallel  does  not  hold 
with  regard  to  us.  The  detachment  from  the  world,  or 
the  coming  out  from  the  camp,  to  which  my  text  ex- 
horts, is  not  the  abandonment  of  our  relations  with  what 
the  Bible  calls  "  the  world,"  and  what  we  call — roughly 


"WITHOUT   THE    CAMP"  255 

meaning  the  same  thing — society.  The  function  of  the 
Christian  Church  as  leaven,  involves  the  necessity  of 
being  closely  associated,  and  in  contact  with,  all  forms 
of  human  hfe,  national,  civic,  domestic,  social,  com- 
mercial, intellectual,  political.  Does  my  text  counsel 
an  opposite  course  ?  "  Go  forth  without  the  camp," — 
does  that  mean — huddle  yourself  together  into  a  sepa- 
rate flock,  and  let  the  camp  go  to  the  devil  ?  By  no 
means.  For  the  society  or  world,  out  of  which  the 
Christian  is  drawn  by  the  attraction  of  the  Cross,  like 
iron  fihngs  out  of  a  heap  by  a  magnet,  is  in  itself  good  and 
God-appointed.  It  is  He  "  that  sets  the  sohtary  in 
families."  It  is  He  that  gathers  humanity  into  the 
bonds  of  civic  and  national  life.  It  is  He  that  gives 
capacities  which  find  their  sphere,  their  education  and 
their  increase,  in  the  walks  of  intellectual  or  commercial 
or  pohtical  life.  And  He  does  not  build  up  with  one  hand 
and  destroy  with  the  other,  or  set  men  by  His  providence 
in  circumstances,  out  of  which  He  draws  them  by  His 
grace.  By  no  means.  To  go  apart  from  humanity  is 
to  miss  the  very  purpose  for  which  God  has  set  the 
Church  in  the  world.  For  contact  with  the  sick  to  be 
healed  is  requisite  for  healing,  and  they  arc  poor  dis- 
ciples of  the  "  Friend  of  publicans  and  sinners  "  who 
prefer  to  consort  with  Pharisees.  "  Let  both  grow 
together  till  the  harvest " — the  roots  are  intertwined, 
and  it  is  God  that  has  intertwined  them. 

Now,  I  know  that  one  does  not  need  to  insist  upon 


256  "WITHOUT    THE    CAMP" 

this  principle  to  the  average  Christianity  of  this  day, 
which  is  only  too  ready  to  mingle  itself  with  the  world, 
but  one  does  need  to  insist  that,  in  so  mingling,  detach- 
ment from  the  world  is  still  to  be  observed  ;  and  it  does 
need  to  be  taught  that  Christian  men  are  not  lowering 
the  standard  of  the  Christian  life,  when  they  fling  them- 
selves frankly  and  energetically  into  the  various  forms 
of  human  activity,  if  and  only  if,  whilst  they  do  so,  they 
still  remember  and  obey  the  commandment,  "  Let  us  go 
forth  unto  Him  without  the  camp."  The  command- 
ment misinterpreted  so  as  to  be  absolutely  impossible 
to  be  obeyed,  becomes  a  snare  to  people  who  do  not  keep 
it,  and  yet  sometimes  feel  as  if  they  were  to  blame,  be- 
cause they  do  not.  And,  therefore,  I  turn  in  the  next 
place  to  consider — 

II.    What  this  Detachment  Really  Is. 

Will  you  let  me  put  what  I  have  to  say  into  the  shape 
of  two  or  three  plain,  practical  exhortations,  not  because 
I  wish  to  assume  a  position  of  authority  or  command, 
but  only  in  order  to  give  vividness  and  point  to  my 
thoughts  ? 

First,  then,  let  us  habitually  nourish  the  inner  life  of 
Union  with  Jesus  Christ.  Notice  the  words  of  my  text, 
and  see  what  comes  first  and  what  comes  second.  "  Let 
us  go  forth  unto  Him  " — that  is  the  main  thing.  "  With- 
out the  camp  "  is  second,  and  a  cons«^quence ;  "  unto 
Him,"  is  primary,  which  is  just  to  say  that  the  highest, 
widest,  noblest,  all- comprehensive  conception  of  what 


"WITHOUT    THE    CAMP"  257 

a  Christian  life  is,  is  that  it  is  union  with  Jesus  Christ, 
and  whatever  else  it  is  follows  from  that.  The  soul  is 
ever  to  be  looking  up  through  all  the  shadows  and  shows, 
the  changes  and  circumstances,  of  this  fleeting  present 
unto  Him,  and  seeking  to  be  more  closely  united  with 
Him.  Union  with  Him  is  Ufe,  and  separation  from  Him 
is  death.  To  be  so  united  is  to  be  a  Christian.  Never 
mind  about  camps  or  anything  else,  to  begin  with. 
If  the  heart  is  joined  to  Jesus,  then  all  the  rest  will  come 
right.  If  it  is  not,  then  you  may  make  regulations  as 
many  as  you  hke,  and  they  will  only  be  red  tape  to 
entangle  your  feet  in.  "  Let  us  go  forth  unto  Him  "  ; 
that  is  the  sovereign  commandment.  And  how  is  that 
to  be  done  ?  How  is  it  to  be  done  but  by  nourishing 
habitual  consciousness  of  union  with  Him  and  life  in 
Him,  by  an  habitual  reference  of  all  our  acts  to  Him  ? 
As  the  Roman  Catholics  put  it,  in  their  hard,  external 
way,  "  the  practice  of  the  Presence  of  God  "  is  the  key- 
note to  all  real,  vigorous  Christianity.  For,  brethren, 
such  an  habitual  fellowship  with  Jesus  Christ  is  possible 
for  us.  Though  with  many  interruptions,  no  doubt,  still 
ideally  it  is  possible  that  it  shall  be  continuous  and  real. 
It  is  possible,  perfectly  possible,  that  it  shall  be  a  great 
deal  more  continuous  than,  alas  !   it  is  with  many  of  us. 

Depend  upon  it,  this  nourishing  of  an  inward  life  of 
fellowship  with  Jesus,  so  that  we  may  say  "  our  lives  are 
hid"— hid,  after  all  vigorous  manifestation  and  con- 
sistent action—"  with  Christ  in  God,"  will  not  weaken, 

M.S.  17 


258  "WITHOUT    THE    CAMP" 

but  increase,  the  force  with  which  we  act  on  the  things 
seen  and  temporal.  There  is  an  unwholesome  kind  of 
mysticism  which  withdraws  men  from  the  plain  duties 
of  every-day  life  ;  and  there  is  a  deep,  sane,  wholesome, 
and  eminently  Christian  mysticism  which  enables  men 
to  come  down  with  greater  force,  and  to  act  with  more 
decision,  with  more  energy,  with  more  effect,  in  all  the 
conunon  deeds  of  life.  The  greatest  mystics  have  been 
the  hardest  workers.  Who  was  it  that  said,  "  I  live, 
yet  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth  in  me  ?  "  That  man  had 
gone  far,  very  far,  towards  an  habitual  consciousness  of 
Christ's  presence,  and  it  was  the  same  man  that  saidj 
"  That  which  cometh  upon  me  daily  is  the  care  of  all  the 
churches."  The  greatest  mystic  of  the  Middle  Ages, 
the  saint  that  rode  by  the  lake  all  day  long,  and  was  so 
absorbed  in  contemplation  that  he  said  at  night,  "  Where 
is  the  lake  ?  "  was  the  man  that  held  all  the  threads  of 
European  politics  in  his  hands,  and  from  his  cell  at 
Clairvaux  guided  popes,  and  flung  the  nations  of  the 
West  into  a  Crusade.  John  Wesley  was  one  of  the 
hardest  workers  that  the  church  has  ever  had,  and  was 
one  of  those  who  lived  most  habitually  without  the 
camp.  Be  sure  of  this,  that  the  more  our  lives  are 
vrapped  in  Christ,  the  more  energetic  will  they  be  in 
the  world.  They  tell  us  that  the  branches  of  a  spreading 
tree  describe  roughly  the  same  circumference  in  the 
atmosphere  that  its  roots  do  underground,  and  so  far 
as  our  roots  extend  in  Christ,  so  far  will  our  branches 


"WITHOUT   THE   CAMP"  259 

spread  in  the  world.     "  Let  us  go  forth   unto  Him, 
^^^thout  the  camp." 

Again,  let  me  say,  do  the  same  things  as  other  people, 
but  with  a  difference.  The  more  our  so-called  civili- 
zation advances,  the  more,  I  was  going  to  say,  mechani- 
cal, or  at  least  largely  released  from  the  control  of  the 
will  and  the  personal  idiosyncrasy,  become  great  parts  of 
our  work.  The  Christian  weaver  drives  her  looms  very 
much  in  the  same  fashion  that  the  non-Christian  girl 
who  is  looking  after  the  next  set  does.  The  Christian 
clerk  adds  up  his  figures,  and  writes  his  letters,  very 
much  in  the  same  fashion  that  the  worldly  clerk  does. 
The  believing  doctor  visits  his  patients,  and  writes  out 
liis  prescriptions  in  the  fashion  that  his  neighbour  who 
is  not  a  Christian  does.  But  there  is  always  room  for 
the  personal  equation — always  !  and  two  lives  may  be, 
superficially  and  roughly,  the  same,  and  yet  there  may 
be  a  difference  in  them  impalpable,  undefinable,  but 
very  obvious  and  very  real  and  very  mighty.  The 
Christian  motive  is  love  to  Jesus  Christ  and  fellowship 
with  Him,  and  that  motive  may  be  brought  to  bear 
upon  all  life — 

"  A  servant  with  this  clause 
Makes  drudgery  divine." 

He  that  for  Christ's  sake  does  a  common  thing  lifts 
it  out  of  the  fatal  region  of  the  commonplace,  and  makes 
it  great  and  beautiful.     We  do  not  want  from  all  Chris- 


260  "WITHOUT    THE    CAMP" 

tian  people  specifically  Christian  service,  in  the  narrow 
sense  which  that  phrase  has  acquired,  half  so  much  as 
we  want  common  things  done  from  an  uncommon  motive ; 
worldly  things  done  because  of  the  love  of  Jesus  Christ 
in  our  hearts.  And,  depend  upon  it,  just  as,  from  some 
unseen  bank  of  violets,  there  come  odours  in  opening 
spring,  so  from  the  unspoken  and  deeply  hidden  motive 
of  love  to  Jesus  Christ,  there  will  be  a  fragrance  in  our 
commonest  actions  which  all  men  will  recognize.  They 
tell  us  that  rivers  which  flow  from  lakes  are  so  clear  that 
they  are  tinged  throughout  with  celestial  blue,  because 
all  the  mud  that  they  brought  down  from  their  upper 
reaches  has  been  deposited  in  the  still  waters  of  the  lake 
from  which  they  flow  ;  and  if  from  the  deep  tarn  of  love 
to  Jesus  Christ  in  our  hearts  the  stream  of  our  lives 
flows  out,  it  will  be  like  the  Rhone  below  Geneva,  dis- 
tinguishable from  the  muddy  waters  that  run  by  its 
side  in  the  same  channel.  Two  people,  partners  in 
business,  joined  in  the  same  work,  marching  step  for  step 
in  the  same  ranks,  may  yet  be  entirely  distinguishable 
and  truly  separate,  because,  doing  the  same  things,  they 
do  them  from  different  motives. 

Let  me  say,  still  further,  and  finally  about  this  matter, 
that  sometimes  we  shall  have  to  come  actually  out  of 
the  camp.  The  world  as  God  made  it  is  good  ;  society 
is  ordained  by  God.  The  occupations  which  men  pur- 
sue are  of  His  appointment,  for  the  most  part.  But 
into  the  thing  that  was  good  there  have  crept  all  manner 


"WITHOUT   THE   CAMP"  261 

of  corruptions  and  abominations,  so  that  often  it  will  be 
a  Christian  duty  to  come  away  from  all  outward  con- 
nexion with  that  which  is  incurably  corrupt.  I  know 
very  well  that  a  morality  which  mainly  consists  of 
prohibitions  is  pedantic  and  poor.  I  know  very  well 
that  a  Christianity  which  interprets  such  a  precept  as 
this  of  my  text  simply  as  meaning  abstinence  from 
certain  conventionally  selected  and  branded  forms  of 
life,  occupation,  or  amusement,  is  but  a  very  poor  affair. 
But  "  Thou  shalt  not  "  is  very  often  absolutely  necessary 
as  a  support  to  "  Thou  shalt."  If  you  go  into  an  East- 
ern city,  you  will  find  the  houses  with  their  fronts  to  the 
street,  having  narrow  slits  of  windows  all  barred,  and  a 
heavy  gate,  frowning  and  ugly.  But  pass  within,  and 
there  are  flower-beds  and  fountains.  The  frowning 
street  front  is  there  for  the  defence  of  the  fountains  and 
the  flower-beds  within,  from  the  assaults  of  foes,  and 
speaks  of  a  disturbed  state  of  society,  in  which  no  flowers 
can  grow  and  no  fountains  can  bubble  and  sparkle, 
unless  a  strong  barrier  is  round  them.  And  so  "  thou 
shalt  not,"  in  a  world  like  this,  is  needful  in  order  that 
"  thou  shalt "  shall  have  fair  play.  No  law  can  be 
laid  down  for  other  people.  Every  man  must  settle 
this  matter  of  abstinence  for  himself.  Things  that 
you  may  do,  perhaps  I  may  not  do  ;  things  that  you 
may  not  do,  I  very  rightly  may.  "  A  liberal  Chris- 
tianity," as  the  world  calls  it,  is  often  a  very  shallow 
Christianity.     "A  sour  Puritanical  severity,"  as  loose- 


262  "WITHOUT   THE    CAMP" 

living  men  call  it,  is  very  often  plain,  Christian  morality 
An  inconsistent  Christian  may  be  hailed  as  "  a  good 
fellow,"  and  laughed  at  behind  his  back.  Samson 
made  sport  for  the  Philistines  when  he  was  blind. 
The  uncircumcised  do  often  say  of  professing  Chris- 
tians, that  try  to  be  like  them,  and  to  keep  step  with 
them,  "  What  do  these  Hebrews  here  ?  "  and  God 
always  says  to  such,  "  What  dost  thou  here,  Elijah  ?  " 

Lastly — 

III.    Why   this    Detachment    is    Enfoeced. 

"  For  here  we  have  no  continuing  city,  but  we  seek 
one  to  come."  That  translation  does  not  give  the  full 
force  of  the  original,  for  it  suggests  the  idea  of  a  vague 
uncertainty  in  the  seeking,  whereas  what  the  writer 
means  is,  not  "  one  to  come,"  but  one  which  is  coming. 
The  Christian  object  of  seeking  is  definite,  and  it  is 
not  merely  future,  but  present  and  in  process  of  being 
realized  even  here  and  now,  and  tending  to  com- 
pletion. Paul  uses  the  same  metaphor  of  the  city  in 
one  of  his  letters,  "Your  citizenship  is  in  Heaven." 
He  says  that  to  the  Philippians.  Philippi  was  a  colony, 
that  is  to  say,  it  was  a  bit  of  Rome  put  down  in  a  foreign 
land,  with  Roman  laws,  its  citizens  enrolled  upon  the 
registers  of  the  Roman  tribes,  and  not  under  the  juris- 
diction of  the  provincial  governor.  That  is  what  we 
Christians  are,  whether  we  know  it  or  not.  We  are 
here  in  an  order  to  which  we  outwardly  belong,  but 
in  the  depths  of  our  being  we  belong  to  another  order 


"WITHOUT    THE    CAMP"  263 

of  things  altogether.  Therefore  the  essentials  of  the 
Christian  life  may  be  stated  as  being  the  looking  for- 
ward to  the  city,  and  the  realizing  of  our  affinities 
with  it  and  not  with  the  things  around  us.  In  the 
measure  in  which,  dear  brethren,  we  realize  to  what 
community  we  belong,  will  the  things  here  be  seen 
to  be  fleeting  and  alien  to  our  deepest  selves.  "  Here 
we  have  no  continuing  city  "  is  not  merely  the  result 
of  the  transiency  of  temporal  things,  and  the  brevity 
of  our  earthly  lives,  but  it  is  much  rather  the  result 
of  our  vivid  reahzation  and  continual  anticipation 
of,  and  our  affinity  with,  the  other  order  of  things 
beyond  the  seas. 

Abraham  dwelt  in  tents,  because  he  "  looked  for 
a  city,"  and  so  it  was  better  for  him  to  stop  on  the 
breezy  uplands,  though  the  herbage  was  scant,  than 
to  go  down  with  Lot  into  the  vale  of  Sodom,  though 
it  looked  hke  the  garden  of  the  Lord.  In  like  manner, 
the  more  intensely  we  realize  that  we  belong  to  the 
city,  the  more  shall  we  be  willing  to  "  go  forth  without 
the  camp."  Let  these  two  thoughts  dominate  our 
minds  and  shape  our  lives ;  our  union  with  Jesus 
Christ  and  our  citizenship  of  the  heavenly  Jerusalem. 
In  the  measure  in  which  they  do,  it  will  be  no  sacrifice 
for  us  to  come  out  of  the  transient  camp,  because  we 
shall  thereby  go  to  Him,  and  come  to  the  City  of  the 
Uving  God,  the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  "  which  hath 
the  foundations." 


I 


At  the   Altar 

By  Him  therefore  let  us  offer  the  sacrifice  of  praise  to  God  con- 
tinually, that  is,  the  fruit  of  our  lips  giving  thanks  to  His  name. 
But  to  do  good  and  to  communicate,  forget  not,  for  with  such  sacri- 
fices God  is  well  pleased. — Hebrews  xiii.  15-16. 

WE  saw  in  the  preceding  sermon,  in  speaking  on 
the  verses  preceding  these  of  this  text,  that 
Christ  "  without  the  camp  "  calls  His  followers  to  His 
side ;  and  that  detachment  from  the  order  of  society 
in  which  the  Christian  dwells  is  part  of  his  absolute 
duty.  But  there  is  another  side  to  the  assimilation 
to  Jesus  Christ,  which  is  the  very  essence  of  the  Chris- 
tian life,  and  that  other  side  is  brought  out  in  the  words 
of  this  text.  They  are  linked  by  "  therefore "  to 
something  that  goes  before,  and  that  something  is 
a  reference  to  the  office  of  Jesus  Christ  as  the  High 
Priest  of  His  people.  Assimilation  to  Him  is  to  work 
in  that  direction  too.  Detachment  from  the  world 
does  not  mean  indifference  to  the  miseries,  the  sins, 
and  the  groans  of  humanity.  Since  Christ  is  "  without 
the  camp,"  so  must  we  be.     Since  Christ  has  offered 


AT   THE   ALTAR  265 

His  "  blood,  which  is  the  life,"  so  must  we  offer  our- 
selves. "  By  Him,  therefore,  let  us  offer  the  sacrifice 
continually."  This  writer's  conception  of  religion 
embraces  both  the  deep  secrets  of  the  inner  life  and 
the  outward  life  amongst  men ;  he  is  not  preaching 
a  Christianity  of  the  closet  or  the  cloister,  when  he 
demands  detachment  from  the  world,  but  he  is  preach- 
ing a  Christianity  which  has  indeed  its  roots  in  "  the 
secret  place  of  the  Most  High,"  but  is  of  the  market- 
place and  the  streets,  and  wherever  men  do  congregate. 
He  who  moves  amongst  men  dispensing  comfort, 
redressing  wrongs,  bringing  help  and  good,  is  worship- 
ping at  the  altar,  if  he  is  doing  these  things  for  Christ's 
sake,  as  truly  as  if  he  were  absorbed  in  devout  con- 
templation. We  have  to  keep  these  two  things  to- 
gether— detachment  from  the  world,  and  the  priestly 
office  for  men. 

Let  us  then,  first,  look  at  this  lofty  general  con- 
ception of 

I.  The  True  Christian  Life  as  a  Life  of  Priestly 
Sacrifice. 

Now,  I  do  not  need  to  spend  your  time  in  adducing 
the  manifold  instances  in  which  this  thought  is  insisted 
on  in  the  New  Testament.  I  suppose  I  may  take 
them  for  granted,  but  let  me  remind  you  of  one  single 
instance  in  which,  with  a  remarkable  blending,  which 
is  not  confusion,  of  metaphor,  one  of  the  ApostoUc 
writers  tries  to  fill  out  the  conception  by  accumulating 


266  AT   THE    ALTAR 

all  tlie  various  elements  of  the  Sacrificial  Ritual,  and 
declaring  that  they  all  find  their  truest  and  loftiest 
embodiment  in  the  Christian  Hfe,  The  Apostle  Peter 
runs  together  the  notions  of  Temple,  Priesthood  and 
Sacrifice,  and  makes  no  scruple  of  applying  the  fused 
product  of  the  three  to  the  one  fact  of  the  Christian's 
experience  and  the  Christian's  standing,  "  Ye  are  a 
spiritual  house,  a  holy  priesthood,  to  offer  up  spiritual 
sacrifices."  Every  Christian  man  is  a  habitation  of 
God.  Every  Christian  man  is  a  priest,  consecrated 
to  render  to  God  spiritual  offerings.  In  the  depths 
of  his  own  being,  by  his  own  act,  he  is  to  offer  his  own 
self.  And  unless  professing  Christian  people  in  some 
measure  approximate,  with  ever  varying  degrees  of 
nearness  and  imperfectly  at  the  best,  but  still  do 
approximate,  and  try  to  approximate,  to  the  realization 
of  these  three  blended,  lofty  thoughts,  their  Chris- 
tianity is  a  very  poor  thing.  Ye  are  the  temple  of 
God,  and  priests  of  the  Most  High,  and  yourselves 
are  the  sacrifices  that  you  are  to  offer. 

Now  that  whole  stream  of  thought  and  way  of  looking 
at  the  Christian  life  is  a  great  deal  more  than  mere 
rhetorical  imagery.  It  rests  upon  the  fact  that  all 
that  was  expressed,  in  shadow  and  in  outward  symbol, 
in  regard  to  the  deepest  truths  of  men's  relation  to 
God,  by  ritual,  is  transfigured  and  fulfilled,  receiving 
its  highest  and  its  only  real  embodiment,  in  the  relations 
of  a  believing  soul  to  God  and  Christ. 


AT   THE    ALTAR  267 

So,  then,  if  we  are  in  any  deep  and  real  sense  Chris- 
tian people,  we  have  the  priest's  quahfication.  And 
what  was  that  ?  "  Be  ye  clean  that  bear  the  vessels 
of  the  Lord."  The  purity  that  was  aimed  at  in  a 
merely  outward  fashion,  by  elaborate  washings  and 
abstinences  and  restrictions,  is  to  be  accomplished 
in  each  of  us,  by  our  own  continuous  efforts,  making 
ourselves  clear  and  clean  from  "  all  filthiness  of  flesh 
and  spirit."  No  man  can  minister,  as  every  Christian 
man  is  bound  to  do,  sacrifices  of  thankfulness  to  God 
and  of  beneficence  to  men,  unless  his  hands  are  clean 
and  his  heart  pure.  And  so,  dear  brethren,  this 
imaginative  metaphor  which  some  of  you  may  think 
mere  rhetorical  talk,  and  others  of  you  may  be  dis- 
posed to  call,  as  it  has  been  called,  "  Hebrew  old 
clothes,"  is  a  great  deal  more  than  either  the  one  or 
the  other.  It  lays  upon  every  Christian  man  and  woman 
a  very  solemn  obhgation,  which  it  is  impossible  to 
get  away  from. 

But,  again,  if  we  are  Christian  people,  we  have  the 
priest's  prerogative.  And  what  is  that  ?  To  pass 
behind  the  curtain  and  into  the  sanctuary.  You  will 
find,  in  some  old  ruined  abbeys,  a  path  worn  on  the 
hard  stones  of  the  pavement,  by  which  the  ministers 
of  the  altar  passed  continually  into  the  secret  place. 
Have  our  feet  worn  a  way  into  the  inmost  shrine  ? 
Wliat  sort  of  a  priest  is  he  who  never,  when  he  can 
help  it,  visits  the  inner  chamber  where  the  God  dwells  ? 


268  AT    THE    ALTAR 

We  have  the  priest's  prerogative.     Oh  !  that  we  used 
it  more ! 

We  have  the  priest's  function.  And  what  is  that  ? 
To  ofEer  sacrifice.  I  need  not  spend  your  time  in  dis- 
cussing what  is  the  root-idea  of  sacrifice.  Many  different 
notions  may  be  entertained  about  that,  which  are  not 
relevant  to  my  present  subject,  but  a  sacrifice  is  some- 
thing— generally  some  precious  thing — withdrawn 
from  personal  use  and  dedicated  to  a  god.  And  if  we 
are  Christians,  we  have  it  for  our  eminent  duty  to  live 
lives  which  are  sacrifices,  being  thus  consecrated, 
thus  referred  to  Jesus  Christ  and  God,  and  in  which 
there  shall  be  the  element  of  self-denial  and  of  self- 
immolation.  These  three  things,  reference  of  all  my 
activities  to  God,  yielding  of  myself  to  Him,  and  slaying 
of  myself,  go  to  make  up  the  conception  of  sacrifice, 
without  which  a  Christian  profession  is  still  less  melodious 
than  sounding  brass  or  tinkling  cymbal,  A  perpetual 
reference  of  all  my  activities  to  God — that  is  a  hard 
saying.  A  perpetual  surrender  of  myself  to  Him — that 
is  a  harder.  To  take  these  obstinate  wills  of  ours  and 
bow  them,  or  to  take  them  and  hold  them  in  absolute 
suspense,  until  He  declares  His  will,  and  then  to  close  with 
it,  in  swift  and  intimate  union,  is  no  easy  matter  for  any 
of  us.  And  harder  than  either,  and  harder  than  both, 
and  necessary  for  either  and  for  both,  is  the  last  stage 
in  sacrifice,  wherein  I  have  to  take  myself,  and  with 
my  own  hand,  "  bind  the  sacrifice  with  cords  to  the 


AT   THE    ALTAR  269 

horns  of  the  altar,"  and  with  ray  own  hand  lift  the 
knife  and  smite.  Self-annihilation  is  self-preservation  ; 
and  the  sacrifice  is  not  complete,  till  each  Christian 
priest  can  say :  "  I  live,  yet.  not  I,  but  Christ  liveth 
in  me." 

So,  dear  brethren,  the  metaphor  of  my  text  is  not 
a  pretty  flight  of  fancy,  or  a  piece  of  poetic  rhetorical 
imagery.  And  let  me  say  to  you  Nonconformists  who, 
by  virtue  of  your  ecclesiastical  position,  oppose  sacer- 
dotal pretensions  of  all  sorts,  that  the  Christian  truth 
of  the  universal  priesthood  of  believers  by  no  means 
exhausts  its  power,  or  its  necessary  applications,  when 
it  smites  down  the  claims  of  an  order  in  the  Christian 
Church  to  be  priests.  It  has  a  grip  upon  each  of  us, 
and  is  not  merely  to  be  used  as  a  protest  against  sacer- 
dotal assumptions,  but  as  carrying  in  it  the  law  for 
the  individual  life. 

So  much,  then,  for  the  general  thought  that  is  here  ; 
let  me  say  a  word  as  to — 

II.  The  Particular  Applications  of  the  Thought 
OF  THE  Priesthood  of  Christians  in  the  Text. 

A  double  form  of  this  general  notion  of  the  life  of  the 
Christian  as  a  sacrificial  life  is  set  forth  here.  There  is 
the  sacrifice  of  speech  and  the  sacrifice  of  deeds.  A 
word  or  two  about  each  of  these. 

As  to  the  former,  the  sacrifice  of  speech,  the  words 
of  our  text,  carefully  considered,  point  to  two  kinds  of  it, 
as  is  better  brought  out  in  the  Revised  Version's  render- 


270  AT   THE   ALTAR 

ing :  "  By  Him,  therefore,  let  us  offer  the  sacrifice  of 
praise  to  God  continually,  that  is,  the  fruit  of  lips  which 
make  confession  of  His  name."  So  there  are  two  kinds 
of  words  which  are  sacrifices,  words  of  praise  to  God,  and 
words  of  confession  of  God  to  men. 

Now  with  regard  to  the  former  of  these — the  hard 
word  here  is  that  "  continually."  It  is  easy  to  say  "  Let 
us  offer  the  sacrifice  of  praise,"  but  when  you  add  "  con- 
tinually," and  exhort  to  pray  without  ceasing,  to  rejoice 
evermore,  in  everything  to  give  thanks,  then  comes  the 
pinch  ;  and  then  comes  in  the  special  element  of  self- 
surrender  and  self-denial  which  makes  praise  a  true 
sacrifice.  Ah !  brethren,  there  ought  to  be  running 
through  every  Christian  life,  in  a  continuous  stream,  the 
reference  in  all  things  to  God,  the  recognition  of  His  hand 
in  all  things,  and  the  conviction  that  all  things  are 
working  together  for  our  good.  But  instead  of  a  con- 
tinuous stream,  too  often  our  thankfulness  is  like  rivers 
in  the  tropics  in  dry  seasons,  the  bed  dotted  with  stag- 
nant pools  here  and  there,  and  not  even  a  trickle  of  water 
to  connect  them  together.  Our  thankfulness  is  forth- 
coming sometimes,  if  at  all,  when  our  present  circum- 
stances are  bright  and  gladsome  ;  but  it  fails  altogether 
in  the  long  reaches  where  there  are  no  such  blessings, 
whereas  it  ought  to  be  like  a  broad  stream,  full  from 
bank  to  bank,  and  continuous  from  its  fountains  in  the 
hills  to  its  estuary  in  the  ocean. 

But  that  needs  a  very  continual  habit  of  recognizing 


I 


AT   THE   ALTAR  271 

God's  hand  in  all  things  that  come  to  us.  When  we  are 
always  conscious  of  His  working,  always  sensitive  to 
His  touch,  then,  and  only  then,  will  there  be  the  con- 
tinual flow  of  our  praise  to  Him.  As  when  the  wind 
sweeps  through  an  ^oHan  harp,  vague  wild  notes  come 
from  its  strings,  so  when  the  breath  of  God's  mercies 
touches  the  chords  of  our  souls,  they  will  vibrate  into 
music,  and  there  will  be  continual  praise,  if  there  is 
continual  recognition  of  His  agency  in  what  befalls  us. 
But  along  with  that  recognition  there  needs  to  be  what 
is  very  hard  to  reach  and  still  harder  to  maintain, 
namely,  the  position  in  which,  hfted  above  the  world 
and  gifted  with  clearer  vision  than  belongs  to  sense,  we 
see  that  all  things  are  ours,  if  we  are  Christ's.  Then, 
and  only  then,  will  the  unremitting  voice  of  this  stream 
of  our  praise  neither  be  silenced  by  the  frosts  of  adver- 
sity, nor  by  the  fierce  heats  of  prosperity  which  dry  it 
up ;  but  seeing  that  "  all  things  work  together  for 
good,"  and  seeing  that  God  moves  in  all  things,  we  shall 
be  able,  even  when  we  have  to  preface  each  thanks- 
giving with  the  recognition  of  our  losses,  to  say  :  "  The 
Lord  hath  taken  away,  blessed  be  the  name  of  the  Lord." 
The  sacrifice  of  praise  may  be  offered,  and  should  be 
offered,  "  continually." 

I  need  not  say  more  than  a  word  about  the  other  aspect 
of  this  sacrifice  of  speech,  confession  to  His  name. 
That  is  a  priestly  function  which  a  great  many  Christian 
people  woefully  fail  to  discharge.     I  know  that  it  is 


272  AT   THE    ALTAR 

"  not  good  form  "  to  talk  about  religion.  I  know  that 
we  have  conventionalities  of  reticence  about  the  deepest 
things  of  our  souls  which,  in  the  main,  are  founded  on 
propriety  and  common  sense.  I  should  be  the  last  man 
to  urge  Christian  people  to  push  their  religion  in  the 
faces  of  men  out  of  season.  But  making  all  allow- 
ances for  conventional  reticence  and  insular  reserve  and 
personal  idiosyncrasies  and  the  like,  I  do  believe  that 
many  of  us  lose  a  great  deal  of  the  strength  and  blessed- 
ness of  our  religion,  because  we  are  so  dumb  about  it. 
If  we  love  Jesus  Christ,  it  will  be  natural  for  us  to  say 
that  we  do.  And  if  we  never  acknowledge  whose  we 
are,  we  shall  run  a  dreadful  risk  of  losing  much  of  the 
religion  which  we  are  so  slow,  so  ashamed,  so  afraid  to 
confess.  If  you  keep  your  Christianity  hidden  in  your 
doubled-up  fist,  take  care  that  it  does  not  happen  to  you 
as  to  some  simple  person  in  a  conjuring  entertainment, 
who  has  a  coin  put  into  his  palm,  and  is  bid  to  shut  his 
hand  upon  it,  and  when  he  opens  it,  the  coin  is  gone. 
Brethren,  if  you  would  believe,  speak.  "  I  believe, 
therefore  have  I  spoken  "  is  true ;  and  you  can  turn 
it  round  the  other  way ;  "I  speak,  therefore  I  have 
beheved." 

Now,  as  to  the  other  side  of  the  general  notion  of 
sacrifice,  the  sacrifice  of  deeds,  only  a  word  need  be  said. 
"  To  do  good  and  to  communicate  forget  not."  That 
implies  that  good,  Christian  people,  who  are  occupied 
with  the  sacrifice  of  praise  and  confession,  are  sometimes 


AT   THE   ALTAR  273 

apt  to  neglect  the  other  side,  the  sacrifice  of  practical 
beneficence.  People  that  do  not  care  much  about  our 
Christianity  are  very  fond  of  sneering  at  evangeUstic 
efforts,  and  saying  :  "  Oh  !  you  give  tracts,  when  you 
ought  to  be  looking  after  housing  and  social  questions 
of  that  sort."  Well,  the  New  Testament  is  quite  as 
contemptuous  and  as  condemnatory  of  that  one-sided 
kind  of  Christian  sacrifices  as  any  scoffer  of  them  all  is. 
And  what  it  says  is  that  the  sacrifice  of  praise  to  God 
is  the  foundation  on  which  is  to  be  built,  and  on  which 
alone  can  be  built,  to  any  good  purpose,  the  other  sacri- 
fice of  beneficence  and  of  liberality.  "  The  service  of 
men  is  the  worship  of  God  " — that  is  true,  and  noble, 
but  only  on  condition  that  reference  is  had  in  the  mind 
of  the  server  to  the  God  for  whose  sake  he  is  serving. 
As  the  Apostle  James  puts  it,  true  worship  is  not  merely  ^ 
the  "  fruit  of  our  Ups,"  but  "  to  visit  the  fatherless  and 
widows  in  their  aSliction,  and  to  keep  himself  unspotted 
from  the  world."  Morality  and  beneficence  are  the 
garments  of  religion,  the  body  of  which  rchgion  is  the 
soul;  and  if  you  divorce  the  one  from  the  other,  each  is 
one-sided  and  imperfect.  The  philanthropy  which  is 
not  devout  is  as  incomplete,  as  narrow,  as  unreliable  as 
is  the  devotion  which  is  not  philanthropical.  The  two 
must  go  together,  and  neither  of  them  is  anything  else 
than  a  sickly  fragment,  unless  they  do  go  together. 

Now  I  do  not  purpose  to  dwell  upon  what  might,  in- 
deed, more  appropriately  have  been  a  sermon  by  itself ; 

M.S.  ly 


274  AT    THE    ALTAR 

the  emphatic  words  of  this  text :  ""By  Him  therefore 
let  us  offer."  Jesus  Christ's  great  sacrifice  has  taken 
away  the  obstacle  which  makes  it  impossible  for  men  to 
offer  acceptable  sacrifice.  That  death,  in  which  the 
Lamb  of  God  has  borne  away  the  sins  of  the  world,  makes 
it  possible  that,  on  the  footing  of  His  propitiatory  sacri- 
fice, we  should  offer  our  sacrifices  of  thanksgiving.  By 
Him  we  offer,  because  He  gives  to  us,  through  our  faith, 
a  share  in  His  own  hfe,  and  that  communicated  life 
moulds  us  into  His  own  Hkeness.  Since  He  is  a  priest, 
so  are  we.  Since  He  is  a  King,  we  too  reign.  Since  He 
is  a  Son,  we  through  Him  receive  the  adoption  of  sons. 
Since  He  is  the  Light  of  the  world,  we,  too,  through  Him 
are  lights.  "  By  Him  therefore  let  us  offer  the  sacrifice 
of  praise  "  and  of  beneficence.  If  the  life  of  each  of  us 
is  thus  a  sacerdotal  and  sacrificial  life,  then  when  it 
comes  to  a  close,  we  too  shall  be  able  to  say  "  I  am  ready 
to  be  offered,"  and  our  death  will  be  a  libation,  poured 
out  to  the  God  Who  through  death  has  delivered  us  from 
death,  and  it  will — 

"  Thine  endless  mercies  seal. 
And  make  the  sacrifice  complete." 


Great    Hopes  a   Great   Duty 

The  God  of  peace  that  brought  again  from  the  dead  our  Lord 
Jesus,  that  great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep,  through  the  blood  of  the 
everlasting  covenant. — Heb.  xiii.  20. 

A  GREAT  building  needs  a  deep  foundation  ;  a 
leaping  fountain  needs  a  full  spring.  A  very 
large  and  lofty  prayer  follows  the  words  of  my  text, 
and  these  are  the  foundations  on  which  it  rests,  the 
abundant  source  from  which  it  soars  heavenward.  The 
writer  asks  for  his  readers  nothing  less  than  a  complete, 
all-round,  and  thorough-going  conformity  to  the  will 
of  God ;  and  that  should  be  our  deepest  desire  and  our 
conscious  aim,  that  God  may  see  His  own  image  in  us, 
for  nothing  less  can  be  "  well-pleasing  in  His  sight." 
But  does  not  such  a  dream  of  what  we  may  be  seem  far 
too  audacious,  when  we  peruse  the  stained  volume  of 
our  own  lives,  and  remember  what  we  are  ?  Should  we 
not  be  content  with  very  much  more  modest  hopes  for 
ourselves,  and  with  a  very  partial  attainment  of  them  ? 


276    GREAT  HOPES  A  GREAT  DUTY 

Yes,  if  we  look  at  ourselves  ;  but  to  look  at  ourselves  is 
not  the  way  to  pray,  or  the  way  to  hope,  or  the  way  to 
grow,  or  the  way  to  dare.  The  logic  of  Christian  peti- 
tions and  Christian  expectations  starts  with  God  as  the 
premiss,  and  thence  argues  the  possibihty  of  the  im- 
possible. It  was  because  of  all  this  great  accumulation 
of  truths,  piled  up  in  my  text,  that  the  writer  found  it  in 
his  heart  to  ask  such  great  things  for  the  humble  people 
to  whom  he  was  writing,  although  he  well  knew  that 
they  were  far  from  perfect,  and  were  even  in  danger  of 
making  shipwreck  of  the  faith  altogether.  My  purpose 
now  is  to  let  him  lead  us  along  the  great  array  of 
reasons  for  his  great  prayer,  that  we  too  may  learn  to 
desire  and  to  expect,  and  to  work  for  nothing  short  of 
this  aim — the  entire  purging  of  ourselves  from  all  evil 
and  sin  and  the  complete  assimilation  to  our  Lord. 
There  are  three  points  here :  the  warrant  for  our  highest 
expectations  in  the  name  of  God  ;  the  warrant  for  our 
highest  expectations  in  the  risen  Shepherd  ;  the  war- 
rant for  our  highest  expectations  in  the  everlasting 
covenant. 

I.  The  Warrant  for  our  Highest  Expectations 
IN  THE  Name  of  God. 

"  The  God  of  peace  " — the  name  comes  Hke  a  bene- 
diction into  our  restless  lives  and  distracted  hearts,  and 
carries  us  away  up  into  lofty  regions,  above  the  muta- 
tions of  circumstances  and  the  perturbations  and  agita- 
tions of  our  earthly  life.     No  doubt,  there  may  be  some 


GREAT  HOPES  A  GREAT  DUTY    277 

allusion  here  to  the  special  circumstances  of  the  re- 
cipients of  this  letter,  for  it  is  clear  from  the  rest  of  the 
epistle  that  they  had  much  need  for  the  peace  of  God, 
to  calm  their  agitations  in  the  prospect  of  the  collapse 
of  the  venerable  system  in  which  they  had  lived  so  long. 
It  is  obvious  also  that  there  were  divisions  of  opinion 
amongst  themselves,  so  that  the  invocation  of  the  God 
of  peace  may  have  had  a  special  sanctity  and  sweetness 
to  them,  considering  the  circumstances  in  which  they 
were  placed.  But  the  designation  has  a  bearing  not  so 
much  on  the  condition  of  these  to  whom  the  words  are 
spoken,  as  upon  the  substance  of  the  grand  prayer  that 
follows  it.  It  is  because  He  is  known  to  us  as  being 
"  the  God  of  peace  "  that  we  may  be  quite  sure  that  He 
will  "  make  us  perfect  in  every  good  work  to  do  His 
will,  working  in  us  that  which  is  well- pleasing  in  His 
sight." 

And  how  does  that  great  name,  sweet  and  strong  as  it 
is,  bear  with  it  the  weight  of  such  an  inference  as  that  ? 
Plainly  enough  because  it  speaks,  first  of  all,  of  that 
which  I  may  call  an  immanent  characteristic  of  the 
Divine  nature.  He  is  the  tranquil  God,  dwelling  above 
all  disturbance  which  comes  from  variableness  and  all 
"  the  shadows  cast  by  turning "  ;  dwelling  above  all 
possibilities  of  irritation  or  agitation.  And  yet  that 
great  ocean  is  not  stagnant,  but  through  all  its  depths 
flow  currents  of  love,  and  in  all  its  repose  is  intensest 
energy.   The  highest  activity  coincides  with  the  supremest 


278    GREAT  HOPES  A  GREAT  DUTY 

rest.  The  wheel  revolves  so  swiftly  that  it  stands  as  if 
motionless. 

Then,  just  because  of  that  profound  Divine  repose, 
we  may  expect  Him,  by  His  very  nature,  to  impart  His 
own  peace  to  the  soul  that  seeks  Him.  Of  course,  it 
can  be  but  the  faintest  shadow  of  that  Divine  indis- 
turbance  which  can  ever  fall,  like  a  dove's  wing,  upon 
our  restless  lives.  But  still  in  the  tranquillity  of  a 
quiet  heart,  in  the  harmonies  of  a  spirit  all  concentrated 
on  one  purpose,  in  the  independence  of  externals  pos- 
sible to  a  man  who  grasps  God,  in  the  victory  over  change 
which  is  granted  to  them  who  have  pierced  through  the 
fleeting  clouds  and  have  their  home  in  the  calm  blue 
beyond,  there  may  be  a  quiet  of  heart  which  does  not 
altogether  put  to  shame  that  wondrous  promise  :  "  My 
peace  I  give  unto  you."  It  is  possible  that  they  "  which 
have  believed  "  should  "  enter  into  the  rest  "  of  God. 

But  if  the  impartation  of  some  faint  but  real  echo  of 
His  own  great  repose  is  the  delight  of  the  Divine  heart, 
how  can  it  be  done  ?  There  is  only  one  way  by  which  a 
man  can  be  made  peaceful,  and  that  is  by  his  being  made 
good.  Nothing  else  secures  the  true  tranquillity  of  a 
human  spirit  without  its  conformity  to  the  Divine  will. 
It  is  submission  to  the  Divine  commandments  and 
appointments,  it  is  the  casting-ofi  of  self  with  all  its 
agitations  and  troubles,  that  secures  our  entering  into 
rest.  What  a  man  needs  for  peace  is,  that  his  relations 
with  God  should  be  set  right,  that  his  own  nature  should 


GREAT  HOPES  A  GREAT  DUTY    279 

be  drawn  into  one  and  harmonized  with  itself,  and  that 
his  relations  with  men  should  also  be  rectified. 

For  the  first  of  these,  we  know  that  it  is  "  the  Christ 
that  died,"  who  is  the  means  by  which  the  ahenation  and 
enmity  of  heart  between  us  and  God  can  be  swept  away. 
For  the  second  of  them,  we  know  that  the  only  way  by 
which  this  anarchic  commonwealth  within  can  be  brought 
into  harmony  and  order,  and  its  elements  prevented 
from  drawing  apart  from  one  another,  is  that  the  whole 
man  shall  be  bowed  before  God  in  submission  to  His  will. 
The  heart  is  like  some  stormy  sea,  tossed  and  running 
mountains  high,  and  there  is  only  one  voice  that  can 
say  to  it,  "  Peace  :  be  still,"  and  that  is  the  voice  ol 
God  in  Christ.  There  is  only  one  power  that,  like  the 
white  moon  in  the  nightly  sky,  can  draw  the  heaped 
waters  round  the  whole  world  after  itself,  and  that  is 
the  power  of  Christ  in  His  Cross  and  Spirit,  which  brings 
the  disobedient  heart  into  submission,  and  unites  the 
discordant  powers  in  the  liberty  of  a  common  service. 
So,  brethren,  if  we  are  ever  to  have  quiet  hearts,  they 
must  come,  not  from  favourable  circumstances,  nor 
from  anything  external.  They  can  only  come  from 
the  prayer  being  answered  "  Unite  my  heart  to  fear  Thy 
name,"  and  then  our  inner  lives  will  no  longer  be  torn 
by  contending  passions — conscience  pulling  this  way 
and  desire  that ;  a  great  voice  saying  within,  "  you 
ought !  "  and  an  insistent  voice  answering,  "  I  will  not"  ; 
but  all  within  will  be  at  one,  and  then  there  will  be  peace. 


280    GREAT  HOPES  A  GREAT  DUTY 

"  The  God  of  peace  sanctify  you  wholly,"  says  one  of  the 
Apostles,  bringing  out  in  the  expression  the  same  thought, 
that  inasmuch  as  He  Who  Himself  is  supreme  repose 
must  be  infinitely  desirous  that  we.  His  children,  should 
share  in  His  rest,  He  will,  as  the  only  way  by  which  that 
rest  can  ever  be  attained,  sanctify  us  wholly.  When — 
and  not  till,  and  as  soon  as — we  are  thus  made  holy, 
are  we  made  at  rest. 

Nor  let  us  forget  that,  on  the  other  hand,  the  Divine 
peace,  which  is  "shed  abroad  in  our  hearts  "  by  the  love 
of  God,  does  itself  largely  contribute  to  perfect  the  holi- 
ness of  a  Christian  soul.  We  read  that  "  the  God  of 
peace  shall  bruise  Satan  under  your  feet  shortly,"  and 
also  that  "  the  peace  of  God  will  guard  your  hearts 
and  minds,"  and  again  that  the  peace  of  God  will  sit 
as  umpire  in  our  hearts,  detecting  evil,  judging  actions, 
awarding  the  prizes.  For,  indeed,  when  that  peace 
lies  like  a  summer  morning's  light  upon  our  quiet  hearts, 
there  will  be  httle  in  evil  that  will  so  attract  us  as  to 
make  us  think  it  worth  our  while  to  break  the  blessed 
and  charmed  silence  for  the  sake  of  any  earthly  influ- 
ences or  joys.  They  that  dwell  in  the  peace  of  God 
have  little  temptation  to  buy  trouble,  remorse  perhaps, 
or  agitation,  by  venturing  out  into  the  forbidden  ground. 
So,  brethren,  the  great  name  of  the  God  of  peace  is 
itself  a  promise,  and  entitles  us  to  expect  the  com- 
pleteness of  character  which  alone  brings  peace. 

Then,  further,  we  have  here 


GREAT    HOPES    A   GREAT   DUTY         281 

II.  The  Warrant  for  our  Highest  Expectations 
IN  THE  Risen  Shepherd. 

"  The  God  of  peace  Who  brought  again" — or,  per- 
haps, brought  up — "  from  the  dead  our  Lord  Jesus,  that 
great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep."  Now,  it  is  remarkable 
that  this  is  the  only  reference  in  this  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews  to  the  Resurrection  of  Jesus  Christ.  The  book 
is  full  of  references  to  that  which  pre-supposes  the 
Resurrection,  namely,  the  ascended  life  of  Jesus  as  the 
great  High  Priest  within  the  veil,  and  the  fact  that  only 
this  once  is  the  act  of  Resurrection  referred  to,  confirms 
the  idea,  that  in  the  New  Testament  there  is  no  division  of 
thought  between  the  point  at  which  the  line  begins  and 
the  line  itself,  that  the  Ascension  is  but  the  prolongation 
of  the  Resurrection,  and  the  Resurrection  is  but  the  be- 
ginning of  the  Ascension.  But  here  the  act,  rather 
than  the  state  into  which  it  led,  is  dwelt  upon  as 
being  more  appropriate  to  the  purpose  in  hand. 

Then  we  may  notice  further,  that  in  that  phrase, 
"  the  great  Shepherd  of  the  sheep,"  there  is  a  quotation 
from  one  of  the  prophets,  where  the  words  refer  to  Moses 
bringing  up  the  people  from  the  Red  Sea.  The  writer  of 
the  Epistle  adds  to  Isaiah's  phrase  one  significant  word, 
and  speaks  of  "  that  great  Shepherd,"  to  remind  us  of 
the  comparison  which  he  had  been  running  in  an  earlier 
part  of  the  letter,  between  the  leader  of  Israel  and  Christ. 

So,  then,  we  have  here  brought  before  us  Jesus  Who 
is  risen  and  ascended,  as  the  great  Shepherd  of  the 


282    GREAT  HOPES  A  GREAT  DUTY 

sheep.  Looking  to  Him,  what  are  we  heartened  to 
beheve  are  the  possibihties  and  the  Divine  purposes 
for  each  of  those  that  put  their  trust  in  him  ?  Gazing 
in  thought  for  a  moment  on  that  Lord  risen  from  the 
grave,  with  the  old  love  in  His  heart,  and  the  old  greet- 
ings upon  His  lips,  we  see  there,  of  course,  as  everybody 
knows,  the  demonstration  of  the  persistence  of  a  human 
life  through  death,  hke  some  stream  of  fresh  water 
holding  on  its  course  through  a  salt  and  stagnant  sea, 
or  plunging  underground  for  a  short  space,  to  come  up 
again  flashing  into  the  sunshine.  But  we  see  more 
than  that.  We  see  the  measure  of  the  power,  as  the 
Apostle  has  it,  that  works  in  us,  "  according  to  the 
energy  of  the  might  of  the  power  which  He  wrought  in 
Christ,  when  He  raised  Him  from  the  dead."  As  we 
gaze,  we  see  what  may  be  called  a  type,  but  is  a  great 
deal  more  than  a  type,  of  the  possibilities  of  the  risen 
life,  as  it  may  be  lived  even  here  and  now,  by  every 
poor  and  humble  soul  that  puts  its  trust  in  Him.  The 
Resurrection  of  Jesus  gives  us  the  measure  of  the  power 
that  worketh  in  us. 

But  more  than  that,  the  risen  Shepherd  has  risen  as 
Shepherd,  for  the  very  purpose  of  imparting,  to  every 
soul  that  trusts  in  Him,  His  own  hfe.  And  unless  we 
grasp  that  truth,  we  shall  not  understand  the  place  of 
the  Resurrection  in  the  Christian  scheme,  nor  the  ground 
on  which  the  loftiest  anticipations  are  not  audacious 
for  the  poorest  soul,   and  on  which  anything  beneath 


GREAT  HOPES  A  GREAT  DUTY    283 

the  loftiest  is,  for  the  poorest,  beneath  what  it  might 
and  should  aspire  to.  When  the  alabaster  box  was 
broken,  the  ointment  was  poured  forth  and  the  house 
was  filled  with  the  odour.  The  risen  Christ  imparts 
His  life  to  His  people.  And  nothing  short  of  their 
entire  perfecting,  in  all  which  is  within  the  possibihties 
of  human  beauty  and  nobleness  and  purity,  will  be  the 
adequate  issue  of  that  great  Death  and  triumphant 
Resurrection,  and  of  the  mighty,  quickening  power  of  a 
new  Ufe,  which  He  thereby  breathed  into  the  dying 
world.  On  His  Cross,  and  from  His  Tomb,  and  from 
His  Throne,  He  has  set  agoing  processes  which  never 
can  reach  their  goal — and,  blessed  be  God  !  never  will 
stop  their  beneficent  working — until  every  soul  of  man, 
however  stained  and  evil,  that  puts  the  humblest  trust 
in  Him,  and  lives  after  His  commandment,  is  become 
radiant  with  beauty,  complete  in  hohness,  victorious 
over  self  and  sin,  and  is  set  for  evermore  at  the  right 
hand  of  God.  Every  anticipation  that  falls  short  of 
that  and  all  effort  that  lags  behind  that  anticipation,  is  an 
insult  to  the  Christ,  and  a  tramphng  under  foot  of  the 
blood  of  "the  covenant  wherewith  ye  are  sanctified." 

So,  brother,  open  your  mouth  wide,  and  it  will  be 
filled.  Expect  great  things ;  beheve  that  what  Jesus 
Christ  came  into  the  world  and  died  to  do,  what  Jesus 
Christ  left  the  world  and  lives  to  carry  on,  will  be  done 
in  you,  and  that  you  too  will  be  made  complete  in  Him. 
For  the  Shepherd  leads  and  the  sheep  follow — here  afar 


284    GREAT  HOPES  A  GREAT  DUTY 

off,  often  straying,  and  getting  lost  or  torn  by  the 
brambles,  and  worried  by  the  wolves.  But  He  leads 
and  they  do  follow,  and  the  time  comes  when  "  they  shall 
follow  the  Lamb  whithersoever  He  goeth,"  and  be  close 
at  His  heels  in  all  the  good  pastmres  of  the  mountains  of 
Israel.  "  We  see  not  yet  all  things  put  under  Him," 
but  we  see  Jesus,  and  that  is  enough. 

III.  The  Warrant  for  our  Highest  Expectations 
IN  THE  Everlasting  Covenant. 

Space  will  not  allow  of  my  entering  upon  the  question 
as  to  the  precise  relation  of  these  final  words  to  the  rest 
of  the  verse,  but  their  relation  to  the  great  purpose  of 
the  whole  verse  is  plain  enough.  It  has  come  to  be  very 
unfashionable  now-a-days  to  talk  about  the  covenant. 
People  think  that  it  is  archaic,  technically  theological, 
far  away  from  daily  Hfe,  and  so  on  and  so  on.  I  beheve 
that  Christian  people  would  be  a  great  deal  stronger,  if 
there  were  a  more  prominent  place  given  in  Christian 
meditations  to  the  great  idea  that  underlies  that  meta- 
phor. And  it  is  just  this,  that  God  is  under  obHgations, 
taken  on  Him  by  Himself,  to  fulfil  to  a  poor,  trusting 
soul  the  great  promises  to  which  that  soul  has  been 
drawn  to  cleave.  He  has,  if  I  might  use  such  a  meta- 
phor, like  some  monarch  given  a  constitution  to  His 
people.  He  has  not  left  us  to  grope  as  to  what  His 
mind  and  purpose  may  be.  Across  the  infinite  ocean 
of  possibilities,  He  has  marked  out  on  the  chart,  so  to 
speak,  the  line  which  He  will  pursue.     We  have  His 


GREAT  HOPES  A  GREAT  DUTY    285 

word,  and  His  word  is  this  :  "  After  those  days,  saith 
the  Lord,  I  will  make  a  new  covenant.  I  will  write  my 
law  on  their  inward  parts,  I  will  be  their  God,  and  they 
shall  be  My  people."  So  the  definite,  distinct  promise, 
in  black  and  white,  so  to  speak,  to  every  man  and 
woman  on  the  face  of  the  earth,  is  "  Come  into  the 
bonds  of  the  covenant,  by  trusting  Me,  and  you  will 
get  all  that  I  have  promised." 

And  that  covenant  is,  as  my  text  says,  sealed  by  "  the 
blood."  Which,  being  turned  into  less  metaphorical 
Enghsh,  is  just  this,  that  God's  infinite  propension  of 
beneficence  towards  each  of  us,  and  desire  to  clothe 
us  in  garments  of  radiant  purity,  are,  by  Christ's 
death,  guaranteed  as  extending  to,  and  working  their 
effects  on,  every  soul  that  trusts  Him.  What  does  that 
death  mean  if  it  does  not  mean  that  ?  Why  should  He 
have  died  on  the  Cross,  unless  it  were  to  take  away  sin  ? 

But  the  blood  of  the  covenant  does  not  mean  only 
the  Death  by  which  the  covenant  is  ratified.  We  shall 
much  misapprehend  and  narrow  New  Testament  teach- 
ing, if  we  suppose  that.  The  "  blood  is  the  life."  There 
is  further  suggested,  then,  by  the  expression,  that  the 
vital  energy,  with  which  Jesus  Christ  came  from  the 
dead  as  the  Shepherd  of  the  sheep,  is  the  power  by 
which  God  makes  us  "  perfect  in  every  good  work  to  do 
His  will,  working  in  us  that  which  is  well-pleasing  in 
His  sight." 

So,  two  practical  counsels  may  close  my  words.     See 


286    GREAT  HOPES  A  GREAT  DUTY 

that  you  aspire  as  high  as  God's  purpose  concerning 
you,  and  do  not  be  content  with  anything  short  of  the, 
at  least,  incipient  and  progressive  accomphshment  in 
your  characters  and  Uves,  of  that  great  prayer.  Again, 
see  that  you  use  the  forces  which,  by  the  Cross  and  the 
Resurrection  and  the  Ascension,  are  set  in  motion  to 
make  that  wondrous  possibiHty  a  matter-of-fact  reahty 
for  each  of  us ;  and  whoever  you  are,  and  whatever  you 
have  been,  be  sure  of  this,  that  He  can  lift  you  from  the 
mud  and  cleanse  you  from  its  stains,  and  set  you  at  His 
own  right  hand  in  the  heavenly  places.  For  the  Name, 
and  the  risen  Shepherd,  and  the  Blood  of  the  everlast- 
ing covenant,  make  a  threefold  cord,  not  to  be  quickly 
broken,  and  able  to  bear  the  weight  of  the  loftiest 
hopes  and  firmest  confidence  that  we  can  hang  upon  it. 


Great  Hopes  and  a  Great  Power 

The  God  of  peace  .  .  .  make  you  perfect  in  every  good  work  to 
do  His  will,  working  in  you  that  which  is  well-pleasing  in  His  sight, 
through  Jesus  Christ. — Heb.  xiii.  21. 

THIS  all-comprehensive  petition  is  preceded  by, 
and  based  upon,  a  lofty  invocation,  which  gazes 
on  various  aspects  of  the  nature  and  deahngs  of  God, 
and  thence  draws  large  desires  and  expectations.  It 
is  because  He  is  "  the  God  of  peace,"  it  is  because  He 
has  "  brought  again  from  the  dead  the  great  Shepherd 
of  the  sheep,"  it  is  because  He  has  made  a  covenant 
with  men,  and  sealed  it  with  blood,  that  this  writer  finds 
in  his  heart  to  open  his  mouth  so  wide  in  such  a  prayer. 
The  "  Name  "  of  God  is  the  true  encouragement  for 
petitions  and  the  measure  of  expectations.  There  must 
be  some  proportion  between  the  cause  and  the  effect. 

Another  observation  may  be  made  by  way  of  intro- 
duction, and  that  is,  that  we  have  here  brought  together, 
as  in  perfect  harmony,  and  as  being  cause  and  effect, 
two  truths  which,  grasped  separately,  and  being  separ- 


288    GREAT  HOPES  AND  A  -GREAT  POWER 

ated,  exaggerated,  have  split  the  Christian  world.  One 
school  has  shouted :  "  God  working  in  you,"  and  has 
whispered,  if  it  has  spoken  at  all,  "  to  do  His  will." 
The  other  school  has  divided  its  shoutings  and  its  whis- 
perings in  precisely  opposite  fashion.  One  school  of 
opinion  has  so  gazed  upon  the  Divine  operations  that 
it  has  reduced  man  to  a  mere  tool  in  His  hands  ;  the 
other  has  been  so  fascinated  by  the  thought  of  the  free- 
dom and  responsibility  of  the  human  agent,  that  it  has 
practically  ignored  God.  But  this  writer  has  taken  the 
two  war-cries,  and  written  them  both  upon  his  banner. 
Thus  he  shakes  hands  with  Paul  when  he  said  :  "  Work 
out  your  own  salvation,  for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in 
you."  The  Christian  life  is  first  of  all  an  inwrought, 
and  then  it  is  an  out-working,  life. 

We  have  then,  here, 

I.    The  Great  Christian  Ideal. 

There  are  in  the  text  two  kinds  of  workings,  and  the 
parallelism  between  the  two  would  have  been  more 
distinctly  observable  by  an  English  reader  if  the  same 
word  had  been  employed  for  both  kinds,  in  our  transla- 
tion, as  is  the  case  in  the  Greek.  We  should  then  have 
read,  "  to  do  His  will,  doing  in  you  that  which  is  well- 
pleasing  in  His  sight." 

So  notice  that  the  external  conduct,  the  doing  of  His 
will,  comes  as  consequence  and  outcome  of  an  inward 
character  which  is  "  pleasing  in  His  sight."  Now,  it 
sounds  a  commonplace  that  conduct  is  the  outcome  of 


GREAT  HOPES  AND  A  GREAT  POWER    289 

character,  but  it  is  anything  but  a  commonplace  if  we 
begin  to  try  to  apply  it  to  ourselves.  As  the  fruit  to 
the  tree,  as  the  fountain  to  the  stream,  so  the  actions  of 
the  Christian  man  ought  to  be  the  direct  outcome  and 
issue  of  his  character.  But  they  are  not  always  so; 
they  never  are  so  to  the  extent  that  they  ought  to  be.  Of 
course,  to  a  very  large  extent,  everything  that  a  man 
does  is  a  making  visible  of  his  inward  self.  But  then 
there  are  large  tracts  of  all  our  lives  which  are  instinctive, 
almost  purely  mechanical,  which  are  done  without  any 
conscious  reflection  at  the  moment.  And  the  more  that 
these  are  minimized,  the  more  that  the  territory  of 
mechanical,  instinctive,  habitual,  unreflective  conduct 
is  diminished,  and  the  more  that  the  territory  of  the 
self-reveaUng  spirit  of  a  man  permeating  all  his  work  is 
enlarged,  the  nearer  he  approximates  to  the  ideal. 
When  the  work  is,  as  it  were,  the  footprint  of  the  person, 
when  what  we  do  is  not  merely  done  because  it  was 
done  at  the  same  hour  yesterday,  and  we  have  reached 
the  stage  of  doing  it  without  thinking  about  it,  then  we 
rise  higher  in  the  scale. 

But  this  relation  of  conduct  to  character  bears  with 
it  two  very  important  exhortations.  One  of  them  is 
this :  let  us  see  to  it  that  all  our  actions  are  brought 
under  the  dominion  of  the  inward  self  ;  and  the  other  is, 
let  us  see  to  it  again,  that  all  of  that  inward  self  is  trans- 
lated into  actions  and  made  visible  thereby.  How 
many  of  us  keep  our  religion  in  our  pews  along  with 
M.S.  19 


290    GREAT  HOPES  AND  A  GREAT  POWER 

our  hymn  books,  or  put  it  away  in  a  drawer  on  the 
Sunday  night  with  our  Sunday  clothes,  to  lie  there  until 
next  Sunday  comes  round  ?  How  much  of  our  creed 
influences  our  conduct  ?  How  much  of  our  conduct 
is  shaped  by  our  creed  ?  How  much  of  the  outward 
life  is  consciously  determined  by  the  inward  self,  and 
how  much  of  it  is  mere  dead,  instinctive,  mechanical, 
unreflective  action  ?  Brethren,  commonplace  and  in 
some  aspects  inevitable  as  is  this  relation  shadowed 
in  my  text,  between  the  inward  and  the  outward,  our 
lives  would  be  transfigured  if  we  grasped  and  practised 
these  two  principles — make  of  your  every  thought  an 
action  ;  let  every  action  be  dominated  by  a  thought. 

But  then,  further,  there  is  here  the  suggestion  of  what 
is  necessary  in  order  that  the  outward  life  should  be 
good — an  inward  self,  pleasing  in  His  sight.  What  a 
lofty,  lovely,  bold  thought  that  is,  that  the  infinite 
Divine  nature  stands  in  such  a  relation  to  us  poor  crea- 
tures as  that  something  not  unlike  the  delight  that  we 
have  in  pleasant  sights  or  sweet  fragrance  is  experienced 
by  God !  What  a  wonderful  heightening  of  that  thought 
it  is,  that  you  and  I,  who  know  ourselves  to  be  very  often 
disgusting  to  our  own  better  selves,  may  yet  be  made  to 
minister  something  to  the  joy  of  the  Lord !  God  is 
Love,  and  with  whatever  modifications  that  word  must 
be  applied  to  Him,  this  is  an  inseparable  part  of  all  love 
— to  rejoice  and  delight  in  the  nobleness  of  the  beloved. 
What  a  stimulus  that  should  be  to  all  work  !    How 


GREAT  HOPES  AND  A  GREAT  POWER  291 

(.lifferent  it  is  to  say  to  a  man,  "  Be  so-and-so  because  it 
will  please  God  "  from  what  it  is  to  say,  "  Be  good  be- 
cause it  is  your  duty,"  or  "  because  it  is  the  highest 
ideal  of  humanity ;  "  or  so  on.  Bring  the  personal 
element  into  the  effort  to  purge  character,  and  what  is 
else  labour  and  hopeless  toil  comes  to  be  blessed,  as  all 
things  are  blessed,  that  are  done  by  love  for  love's  sake, 
and  offered  to  love. 

"  Well-pleasing  in  His  sight  " — can  it  be  ?  Can  one 
of  our  black  brooks  by  any  alchemy  be  so  purged  as 
that  upon  its  foul,  greasy  surface  the  noonday  blue  shall 
be  reflected,  or  the  nightly  stars  quiver  in  points  of 
light  ?  Yes,  as  I  shall  have  to  show  you  presently. 
Here  is  the  Christian  ideal,  that  the  black  brook  that 
flows  out  of  our  hearts  may  be  sweetened,  purged,  defe- 
cated, and  made  crystalline  and  translucent — "  working 
in  you  that  which  is  well-pleasing  in  His  sight." 

Then,  still  further,  we  have  here  the  ideal  of  what 
constitutes  a  good  work.  It  must  be  the  doing  of  God's 
will :  that  is  its  distinctive  characteristic.  The  popular 
usage  applies  the  expression  "  a  good  work  "  to  certain 
conventional  forms  of  charity,  almsgiving  and  the  like. 
The  New  Testament  notion  of  it  is  simply  this — an  act 
done  with  reference  to  God,  and  in  submission  to  His 
will;  Self-regard,  making  myself  my  own  master,  is 
the  tap-root  of  all  ignoble,  base,  sinful  living.  And 
contrariwise,  to  refer  everything  to  God  and  to  say  in 
regard  to  action,  as  in  regard  to  endurance  :   "  Not  my 


292  GREAT  HOPES  AND  A  GREAT  POWER 

will  but  Thine  be  done,"  lifts  the  smallest  deed  into 
sublimity,  and  transfigures  the  commonest  and  plainest- 
featured  act,  and  makes  all  our  lives  noble  and  worship. 
To  do  His  will  is  to  do  good  works. 

Now  I  know,  and  I  am  thankful  to  know,  that  there 
are  many  noble,  self-sacrificing,  lovely  deeds  done  by 
men  who  have  no  conscious  submission  of  will,  in  the 
doing  of  them,  to  God.  God  forbid  that  I  should  say 
that  these  are  "  splendid  vices."  But  I  do  say  that 
they  have  not  reached  the  highest  possible  height  of 
goodness,  nor  are  invested  with  the  fairest  possibilities 
of  loveliness  with  which  men's  actions  might  be  clothed. 
I  remember  being  in  a  rainstorm  among  the  hills,  in 
which  the  sun  suddenly  shone  out,  blazing  down  upon 
a  mountain  ash,  and  making  its  bright  red  berries  and 
wet  green  leaves  a  wonder  and  a  delight,  and  then  the 
blackness  came  over  again,  and  that  flaming  miracle 
turned  once  more  into  a  common  tree.  The  deeds  that 
have  the  sunshine  of  God's  face  striking  upon  them, 
because  they  are  done  in  obedience  to  His  will,  blaze  up 
and  flame  and  are  glorified.  A  good  work  is  a  work 
that  "  does  His  will." 

Then,  lastly,  we  have  it  suggested  in  this  ideal  that 
the  Christian  life  ought  to  be  a  comprehensive  all-round 
goodness — "  in  every  good  work."  Do  not  let  us  con- 
fine ourselves  to  the  type  of  excellence  most  congruous 
to  our  nature,  but  try  to  assimilate  the  graces  which 
are  less  kindred  to  our  dispositions.       Do  not  let  us 


GREAT  HOPES  AND  A  GREAT  POWER  293 

narrow  ourselves  into  one  groove  of  virtue,  but  let  us 
expatiate  over  all  the  field.  A  tree  in  a  thicket  has  no 
chance  to  expand  on  all  sides.  Take  it  out  into  a  field, 
and  let  it  have  ample  space  to  burgeon  ;  give  air  a  free 
circle  all  round  it,  and  let  its  roots  spread  outwards  as 
they  will,  and  the  sunshine  come  to  it  from  sunrise  to 
sunset,  and  you  will  get  a  symmetrical,  all-round  green- 
ness. That  is  the  kind  of  grace  and  virtue  that  should 
characterize  a  Christian. 

Such,  then,  is  the  ideal — an  outward  life  the  true  cast 
and  replica  of  an  inward  ;  an  inward  character  con- 
formed to  God's,  and  so  "  pleasing  in  His  sight ;  "  deeds 
done  in  obedience  to  Him,  and  an  all-round  perfection 
and  excellence.  What  about  the  reaUty  ?  Is  such  an 
ideal  as  unattainable  as  actual  lines  and  real  triangles 
that  possess  all  the  properties  of  those  of  Euclid  ?  My 
text  says  it  is  not  unattainable — "  make  you  perfect  in 
every  good  work  in  order  to  do  His  will ;  working  in 
you  that  which  is  well-pleasing  in  His  sight." 

So  then,  we  have  here,  in  the  second  place, 

II.  The  Great  Power  Which  makes  the  Ideal 
A  Reality. 

The  word  here  rendered,  "  make  perfect  "  does  not 
convey  the  absolute  idea  of  completeness  as  other  words 
which  are  similarly  translated  do ;  but  it  means  to 
equip,  or  generally  to  fit  for  a  specific  form  of  service, 
and  it  is  especially  employed  in  two  cases  to  which  I 
merely  point.     It  is  the  word  which  is  used  when  we  read 


294    GREAT  HOPES  AND  A  GREAT  POWER 

of  fishermen  by  the  Lake  of  Galilee  mending  their  nets  ; 
so  it  carries  the  notion  of  repairing  what  is  broken. 
It  is  the  word  which  is  used  when  we  read  of  supplying 
that  which  is  lacking  ;  so  it  carries  the  notion  of  bringing 
additional  reinforcements  to  something  that  is  enfeebled. 
The  power  by  which  the  ideal  is  realized  is  further  stated 
as  being  an  inward  working  which  is  mediated  for  us 
through  Jesus  Christ. 

So  then  we  are  brought  face  to  face  once  more  with 
the  great  Christian  Gospel  that,  through  Jesus  Christ, 
that  which  is  lacking  may  be  supplied,  and  that  which  is 
broken  may  be  made  whole,  and  that  all  that  is  needed 
to  equip  a  man  for  the  service  which  consists  in  doing 
God's  will,  is  laid  up  in  Him  for  us  to  receive  into  our 
hearts. 

There  is  a  possibility  that  all  the  weaknesses  which 
we  feel,  which  disable  us  from  service,  and  hamper  us 
at  our  highest,  may  by  degrees  be  swept  away,  and  that 
each  of  us,  conscious  as  we  are  of  imperfection  and  of 
something  far  more  tragic  than  imperfection — absolute 
contrariety  to  the  Divine  will — may  yet  be  brought  into 
that  state  in  which  He  shall  look  upon  us  and  see  us  to 
be  well-pleasing  in  His  sight.  Dear  brethren,  forgiveness 
is  much,  and  is  an  essential  part  of  the  process  by  which 
the  broken,  slimy  net  is  mended  ;  but  forgiveness  is 
only  a  means  to  an  end,  a  preliminary  to  the  great  gift, 
the  gift  of  eternal  life,  life  from  Christ,  and  life  like  His. 
This  is  the  Gospel  which  we  have  to  preach,  and  surely 


GREAT  HOPES  AND  A  GREAT  POWER  295 


it  is  a  gospel,  to  men  conscious  of  their  own  short- 
comings and  failures,  and  surely  they  who  have  a  Divine 
Ufe  imparted  to  them,  and  a  Divine  Spirit  working  in 
them,  need  never  despair  of  becoming  "  perfect  in  every 
good  work  to  do  His  will,"  and  developing  characters 
'•  well-pleasing  in  His  sight." 

There  is  the  distinction,  the  blessed  distinction  and 
transcendent  pre-eminence,  of  Christianity  over  every  re 
hgion  and  every  system  of  moral  improvement  that  the 
world  has  ever  seen.  They  tell  us  what  we  ought  to  be  ; 
this  makes  it  possible  that  we  should  be  it.  What  is  the 
use  of  examples.  What  is  the  use  of  laws  ?  What  is  the 
use  of  telling  me  my  duty  ?  I  know  it  well  enough  ;  that 
is  not  the  trouble.  The  worst  man  knows  a  great  deal 
more  of  what  is  right  than  the  best  man  does.  What  is 
the  good  of  telling  a  lame  man  to  get  up  and  walk,  and 
expatiating  to  him  about  the  loveliness  of  the  road  ? 
What  is  the  use  of  setting  before  me  a  headUne,  and 
saying  :  "  There,  write  like  that,"  if  my  hand  is  shaking, 
and  my  pen  is  bad,  and  there  is  no  ink  in  the  ink  well  ? 
We  do  not  lack  moral  teaching,  we  lack  moral  impulse 
and  power.  And  because  Jesus  Christ  comes  to  us,  and 
does  not  only  say,  "  Run,"  but  lays  His  hand  on  the 
palsied  Umbs  and  from  the  thrill  of  His  touch  there 
comes  strength,  therefore  is  He  the  Leader  Whom  to 
follow  is  made  possible  by  His  gifts,  and  Whom  to  reach 
is  life  and  blessedness  and  perfection. 
Lastly,  let  me  gather  together — 


296    GREAT  HOPES  AND  A  GREAT  POWER 

III.    One  or  Two  Practical  Thoughts 
from  these  considerations. 

The  first  of  them  is  this.  You  Christian  people 
ought  to  have  for  your  aim  what  is  God's  purpose  ;  and 
His  purpose  is  set  forth  in  that  ideal  which  I  have  tried 
faintly  to  outHne.  That  is  what  we  are  here  for,  to 
make  it  a  reality  in  our  own  lives.  That  is  what  Christ 
died  and  lives  for.  That  is  what  all  creeds  and  forms  of 
worship  are  for.  They  are  scaffolding  to  help  us  to 
build,  but  hosts  of  us  never  get  any  further  than  the 
scaffolding.  That  is  what  all  life  is  intended  to  produce  ; 
"  He  for  our  profit,  that  we  might  be  partakers  of  His 
holiness."     It  is  God's  purpose,  let  it  be  your  aim. 

Again,  let  us  learn  the  true  way  by  which  we  can 
make  this  aim  a  reality  in  our  lives.  Since  the  Outward 
is  but  the  outcome  of  the  Inward,  and  since  the  purifying 
of  the  Inward  is  the  result  of  the  inflow  into  it  of  the  life 
of  Jesus  Christ,  the  healing  stream,  then  the  main  thing 
that  Christian  people  have  to  do,  in  order  to  grow  into 
perfection,  is  to  keep  the  communications  open,  and  by 
desire  and  prayer  and  faith  to  make  themselves  pene- 
trable by  that  Divine  influence.  The  first  thing  to  do 
is  not  to  labour  at  conduct,  but  to  see  after  character, 
and  the  first  thing  to  do  in  regard  to  healing  and  strength- 
ening character  is  to  He  open  to  the  heavenly  influences 
and  let  them  flow  into  our  hearts.  First  be,  then  do  ; 
and  that  you  may  be,  let  Christ  come  and  make  you 
what  He  would  have  vou  to  be.     But  on  the  other  hand, 


GREAT  HOPES  AND  A  GREAT  POWER  297 

whilst  there  is  first  of  all  to  be  the  receiving  of  the 
Divine  power,  there  is  next  to  be  the  applying  of  it. 
They  have  been  building  a  gigantic  dam  in  Upper  Egypt. 
It  is  in  vain  that  the  waters  from  the  upper  lands  are 
piled  behind  it  and  stored  there,  or  brought  down 
through  all  the  valley  of  the  Nile,  unless  each  pea- 
sant leads  the  water  into  his  own  little  plot,  and 
carefully  directs  it  round  the  roots  of  his  own  crops. 
You  have  the  stream,  see  to  it  that  your  garden  is 
watered. 

Then,  further,  let  these  considerations  bring  us  in  very 
deep  humiUty  to  the  confession  of  our  own  deficiencies. 
We  have  a  Power  fit  to  shake  mountains,  and  in  our 
experience  it  barely  shifts  a  grain  of  dust.  We  have  a 
Power  that  comes  roUing  in  a  great  flood,  and  a  mere 
dribble  of  it  passes  into  our  lives.  Men  take  note  of 
the  lives  of  nominal  Christians,  and  then  they  turn 
round  to  people  of  my  profession  and  say  to  us — and 
they  have  a  right  to  say,  "  What  is  the  good  of  your 
talking  about  a  great  power  that  will  make  perfect  men  ? 
Look  at  these  people  who  profess  to  have  the  power. 
Are  they  any  better  than  we  are  ?  "  Not  much ; 
sometimes  not  so  good.  What  then  ?  If  the  sick  man 
does  not  take  the  medicine  he  will  not  be  healed  ;  but 
his  not  being  so  is  not  a  demonstration  that  the  phy- 
sician has  made  a  mistake,  or  that  the  prescription  is  of 
no  use  ;  it  is  only  a  demonstration  of  his  own  folly.  We 
Christian  people   are   calumniating  the   power  of  the 


298    GREAT  HOPES  AND  A  GREAT  POWER 

Gospel,  because  we  take  so  little  of  Christ's  transforming 
life  into  our  lives. 

But  do  not  let  me  close  in  a  minor  key.  This  great 
prayer  brings  us  great  hopes.  There  are  forces  at  work 
upon  all  Christian  souls  which  are  evidently  thwarted 
and  yet  as  plainly  have  it  in  them  to  produce  effects  far 
transcending  anything  in  Christian  character  and  con- 
duct that  we  ever  see  here.  What  then  ?  Why  this, 
then — if  a  vine,  planted  in  cold  northern  latitudes,  can 
only  put  forth  blossoms  that  are  often  shrivelled  by 
frosts  before  they  are  set,  and  never  mature  under  our 
pale  sun,  there  will  be  a  transplanting  to  a  soil  and 
climate  where  the  abortive  bloom  shall  swell  and  soften 
and  empurple  itself,  until  it  is  fit  for  the  table  or  the 
winepress  of  the  Lord  of  the  Vineyard.  As  surely  as 
the  crescent  moon  foretells  its  own  completed  silvery 
round,  so  surely  do  the  imperfections  of  the  best  of  us, 
when  taken  in  connexion  with  the  Divine  purpose  and 
the  omnipotent  forces  that  are  lodged  in  the  death  of 
Jesus  and  in  His  life-giving  Spirit,  predict  a  state  in 
which  all  who  here  humbly  trust  in  Him,  and  seek  to 
live  in  obedience  to  God,  shall  be  perfect  in  every 
good  work,  and  wholly  and  eternally  and  growingly 
"  pleasing  in  His  sight."  The  God  of  Peace  "  Who 
brought  again  from  the  dead  that  great  Shepherd 
of  the  sheep,"  will  bring  all  His  flock  where  He  is, 
and  there  they  who  on  earth  followed  Him  afar  off 
with    faltering    steps    and    many    wanderings,    shall 


GREAT  HOPES  AND  A  GREAT  POWER    299 

"  follow  the  Lamb  whithersoever  He  goeth,"  and 
the  children  shall  all  be  perfect,  as  their  "  Father 
which  is  in  heaven  is  perfect." 


The  Singers   by  the  Sea 

And  I  saw  as  it  were  a  sea  of  glass  mingled  with  fire,  and  them 
that  had  gotten  the  victory  over  the  beast,  and  over  his  image,  and 
over  his  mark,  and  over  the  number  of  his  name,  stand  on  the  sea  of 
glass,  having  the  harps  of  God.  And  they  sing  the  song  of  Moses 
the  servant  of  God  and  the  song  of  the  Lamb. — Rev.  xv.  2,  3. 

THIS  vision  owes  its  form  partly  to  the  circumstances 
of  the  seer  and  partly  to  an  Old  Testament 
reference.  As  to  the  former,  John's  exile  in  Patmos 
occasions  miusually  numerous  allusions  to  the  sea,  in 
this  book  of  the  Revelation.  The  voice  of  the  glorified 
Redeemer,  for  instance,  reminds  him  of  the  thunder  of 
the  waves  on  the  rocky  coast.  The  mysterious  Beast 
rises  from  its  abysses,  which  might  hide  so  much  that 
was  foul  and  strange.  Babylon  sinks  in  ruin,  like  a  mill- 
stone tossed  by  an  angel's  hand  into  the  sea.  And  when 
the  vision  of  the  new  heavens  and  the  new  earth  dawns, 
one  of  its  characteristics  is,  "  there  shall  be  no  more  sea," 
the  emblem  of  estrangement,  of  rebellious  power,  of 
futile  effort. 

Similarly  in  this  vision,  the  glassy  sea  shot  with  fire  is 
soo 


THE  SINGERS  BY  THE  SEA  301 

but  a  photograph  of  what  was  often  seen  from  John's 
rocky  islet  on  some  still  morning  when  the  sunrise  "  came 
blushing  o'er  the  sea,"  or  on  some  evening  when  the 
wind  dropped,  and  the  flaming  west  dyed  the  watery 
plain  with  a  fading  splendour. 

Then,  as  to  the  other  element  which  colours  the  repre- 
sentation here,  we  cannot  fail  to  see  that  there  is  an 
allusion  to  the  Song  of  Miriam,  sung  on  the  banks  of  the 
Red  Sea,  when  Pharaoh  and  his  host  were  buried  in  the 
mighty  waters.  There,  as  here,  the  singers  stand  on  the 
safe  shore  ;  there,  as  here,  they  hymn  a  destruction  which 
opened  the  way  to  emancipation  and  joy.  The  allusion 
is  underlined,  as  it  were,  in  the  declaration  that  the  Song 
which  here  is  sung  is  "  the  Song  of  Moses  and  of  the 
Lamb." 

Now,  of  course,  we  cannot  use  highly  imaginative 
representations,  like  that  of  my  text,  as  if  they  were 
dogmatic  statements,  and  we  have  to  be  very  careful  in 
deducing  any  inferences  from  such  figurative  language 
as  this.  But  still,  making  all  allowance  for  that,  we 
may  gather  lessons  that  may  be  of  use  to  us.  We  have 
here  brought  before  us  the  victorious  choir ;  their  place 
by  the  glassy  sea,  and  their  triumphant  song. 

I.    The  Victorious  Choir. 

The  description  of  these  jubilant  singers  is  very 
striking.  "  They  that  had  gotten  the  victory  over,"  or, 
as  the  Original  is  presented  in  the  Revised  Version, 
"  they  that  had  come  victorious  from  " — and  it  would 


302  THE  SINGERS  BY  THE  SEA 

have  been  even  better  to  have  read  out  of  than  from  "  the 
beast,  and  his  image  and  his  mark,  and  the  number  of 
his  name."  They  were  conquerors  who  had  fought  their 
way  out  of  a  certain  tyrannical  dominion,  and  had 
emerged  into  freedom.  Now,  I  shall  not  spend  time  in 
the  discussions  which  have  been  very  fascinating  to 
many  people,  and  do  not  seem  to  me  to  have  been  of 
much  use  to  anybody,  as  to  whether  this  "  Beast " 
represents  a  person,  and  if  so  whether  it  is  Nero,  or 
whether  it  is  some  unknown  and  still  future  individual 
embodiment  of  certain  tendencies.  Never  mind  about 
that.  The  important  question  is,  what  made  the 
"  beast  "  a  beast  ? 

Well — bestiality,  to  begin  with  ;  which,  being  turned 
into  modern  English,  is  sensuous  animalism.  Man  is 
poised  in  the  midst,  between  two  orders  of  being — if  1 
may  use  the  word  "  order  "  in  reference  to  one  of  them 
— and  he  may  rise  or  he  may  sink.  He  may  go  up  to 
the  level  of  Divinity';  he  may  come  down  to  the  level  of 
bestiality.  And  if  he  does  not  do  the  one,  he  will  do  the 
other.  You  have  only  to  look  round  you  to-day  to 
see  the  animal  beneath  a  great  deal  of  the  veneer  of 
civilization  and  refinement  in  modern  society.  The 
unblushing  sensuality,  or  if  I  may  not  use  that  word,  I 
may  at  least  say  sensuousness,  of  many  modern  ideals  in 
art,  in  literature,  in  daily  life — what  is  it  but  the  beast 
in  the  man  coming  to  be  predominant  ?  How  much 
that  is  unblushingly  practised,  and  even  defended  and 


THE  SINGERS  BY  THE  SEA  303 

applauded,  is  really  giving  a  free  hand  to  the  Sensuous, 
which  ought  never  to  get  a  free  hand,  letting  the  mutin- 
eers come  up  on  deck  and  take  command  of  helm  and 
sextant,  flinging  the  reins  on  the  neck  of  the  steeds, 
which  do  noble  work  when  they  are  well  held  in,  but  set 
the  heavens  on  fire,  like  Phaethon's  team,  when  they  are 
allowed  their  way.  There  are  other  aspects  of  what 
make  the  Beast  a  beast.  I  put  them  all  in  two  words, 
God-forgetting  selfishness  and  God-defying  opposition 
of  \vill  against  Christ.  If  you  take  the  context  you  will 
find,  amidst  a  great  deal  that  is  very  difficult  to  under- 
stand, this  one  thing  emphasized,  that  the  Beast  and 
the  Lamb  divide  the  world  between  them,  and  that 
whoever  is  not  on  the  side  of  the  one  is  on  the  side  of  the 
other.  Under  which  King  ?  Who  is  your  Lord  and 
Master  ?  You  young  people  especially,  are  you  going 
to  serve  the  flesh,  or  are  you  going  to  put  your  heel  on 
the  neck  of  the  brute,  and  five  for  the  God  whom  you 
may  bring  to  dwell  within  you  ?  Which  are  you  doing  ? 
The  next  point  is  that  the  dominion  of  this  "  Beast," 
which  is  shorthand  for  all  the  lower  and  animal  ten- 
dencies, is  an  established  fact,  out  of  which  a  man  has  to 
fight  his  way.  "  They  have  gotten  the  victory  out  of 
the  Beast,  and  the  number  of  his  name."  There  is 
nothing  in  this  world  worth  the  having  and  the  being, 
which  is  not  the  result  of  a  deadly  earnest  fight.  If 
you  make  up  your  minds,  or  if  without  ever  having  had 
the  courage  to  make  them  up,  you  let  yourselves  drift 


304  THE  SINGERS  BY  THE  SEA 

into  the  position  of  taking  up  the  line  of  least  resistance 
and  doing  what  is  easiest,  then  your  fate  is  settled,  and 
down  you  will  go.  I  do  not  mean  in  regard  to  outward 
things.  You  may  prosper  in  them,  and  win  wealth  or 
fame  if  your  aims  go  in  that  direction,  but  in  regard  to 
the  true  aims  of  life,  unless  you  are  prepared  to  fight, 
you  will  be  a  poor  creature  whilst  you  live,  and  a  wreck 
altogether  when  you  come  to  die.  They  "  got  the  victory 
out  of  the  beast ;  "  plucked  it  from  the  very  jaws  of  the 
brute  ;  and  that  is  what  we  have  to  do.  As  the  good 
old-fashioned  hymn  says  : — 

Now  we  must  fight  if  we  would  reign ; 
Increaes  our  courage,  Lord. 

But  there  is  one  more  thing  to  note  about  these  vic- 
torious choristers.  How  did  they  get  the  victory  ? 
There  is  only  one  answer  to  that  question — because  they 
joined  themselves  to  the  Victor-Lamb,  It  is  a  strange 
paradox  that  runs  through  this  Book  of  the"  Revelation, 
that,  as  I  have  already  suggested,  the  Lamb  is  pitted 
against  the  Beast ;  and  with  entire  destruction  of  the 
verisimilitude  of  the  metaphor,  the  Lamb  is  made  to  be 
a  Warrior-Lamb,  Who  "  goes  forth  " — strange  as  it 
sounds — "  conquering  and  to  conquer."  That  covers  a 
deep  truth.  Christ  cures  the  animaUsm  of  humanity  by 
His  sacrifice  on  the  Cross,  and  by  His  meekness  and 
gentleness.  And  if  you  are  ever  to  overcome  your 
worse  self,  and  to  have  any  share  in  that  jubilant  song 


THE  SINGERS  BY  THE  SEA  305 

of  triumph  at  the  last,  I  believe  in  my  heart  of  hearts 
that  the  only  way  by  which  you  can  do  so  is  by  trusting 
yourselves  to  Him  Who  "  teaches  our  hands  to  war  and 
our  fingers  to  fight." 

When  He  said  to  us,  "  be  of  good  cheer ;  I  have 
overcome  the  world,"  He  implied  that  "  this  is 
the  victory  that  " — for  us — "  overcometh  the  world, 
even  our  faith,"  by  which  we  unite  ourselves  with 
Him,  participating  by  derivation  in  His  victorious 
power,  and,  therefore,  are  "  more  than  conquerors 
through  Him  that  loved  us."  They  have  "  gotten  the 
victory  from  the  Beast."  Let  me  beseech  you  to  fight 
under  the  same  Leader  and  with  the  same  weapons  as 
they  did,  or  the  Beast  will  gain  dominion  over  you. 

And  now  turn  to  the  second  point — 

IL-    The  Glassy  Sea  by  which  the  Victors  Stood. 

Of  course,  the  allusion  to  the  story  in  Exodus,  and 
the  propriety  of  the  picture,  make  it  necessary  that 
we  should  suppose  that  they  who  stand  "  on  the  sea  of 
glass "  are  not  represented  as  if  they  had  their  feet 
planted  on  its  calm  surface,  but  that  "  on  "  here  means 
"  above,"  "  by  the  side  of,"  on  the  safe  shore,  with  the 
glassy  sea  stretching  in  front  of  them.  Now  this  sea  of 
glass,  by  which  these  victors  stood,  has  appeared  already 
in  this  book,  where  it  is  represented  as  lying  placid  and 
even  before  the  Divine  Throne.  I  suppose  that  both 
there  and  in  our  text,  it  represents  by  a  very  natural 
metaphor  the  aggregate  of  the  Divine  dealings  and  self- 

M.s.  20 


306  THE  SINGERS  BY  THE  SEA 

manifestations  to  men  ;  on  whose  calm  surface,  if  I  may 
so  say,  as  on  a  great,  shining  mirror,  the  throne  of  God 
and  He  who  sits  upon  it,  are  in  some  degree  reflected; 
One  of  the  Psalms  has  the  same  idea,  in  a  somewhat 
different  form,  when  it  says,  "  Thy  way,  0  God,  is  in 
the  sea,  and  Thy  path  in  the  deep  waters,  and  Thy  foot- 
steps are  not  known."  Another  Psalm  echoes  the 
thought  when  it  says,  "  Thy  judgments  are  a  mighty 
deep."  And  one  of  the  Apostles  winds  up  his  discussion 
about  the  mysteries  of  the  kingdom  of  God  with,  "  Oh  ! 
the  depth  of  the  riches  of  the  wisdom  and  knowledge  of 
God.  How  unsearchable  are  His  judgments."  So  I 
suppose  we  may  consider  that  it  is  in  accordance  with 
the  analogy  of  Scripture,  as  well  as  with  the  natural 
propriety  of  the  symboUsm,  if  we  see,  in  this  sea  of  glass 
mingled  with  fire,  an  emblem  of  the  whole  dealings  of 
God  with  man,  through  which  are  ever  and  anon  shot, 
as  it  were,  fiery  streaks,  like  the  scarlet  threads  in 
Venetian  glass. 

This  noble  symbol  carries  with  it  some  great  and 
precious  thoughts.  That  sea  is  transparent.  It  is  deep, 
but  it  is  not  dark  by  reason  of  mud,  but  by  reason  of 
its  clear  translucent  depth ;  and  when  vision  fails,  it  is 
not  because  of  obscuration  there,  but  of  our  weak  sight. 
I  have  seen  a  like  sea,  without  a  speck  of  mire  or  dirt 
and  with  no  weed  on  its  margin,  rising  and  falling  on 
marble  cliffs  that  it  had  polished  into  discovery  of  their 
golden  veins.    Such  is  this  "  glassy  sea,"  pure  and  clean. 


THE'  SINGERS  BY  THE  SEA  307 

"  The  judgments  of  the  Lord  are  true  and  righteous 
altogether."  We  know  their  motives  and  purposes ; 
they  come  from  Love,  they  tend  towards  man's  perfect- 
ing. And  if,  at  any  time,  it  is  difficult  to  hold  fast  by 
that  belief  as  to  their  origin  because  of  their  complexity, 
or  difficult  to  see  how  they  tend  to  that  issue,  still,  as 
does  the  psalm  to  which  I  have  already  referred,  we 
have  to  link  together  the  two  conceptions  :  "  Thy  way  is 
in  the  sea  "  and  "  Thy  way  is  in  the  sanctuary." 

Again,  the  sea  of  glass  was  calm  and  stable.  To  us, 
tossing  upon  it,  it  often  looks  tempestuous  enough.  To 
them,  looking  down  from  above,  it  is  smoothed  into  a 
watery  plain,  a  glassy  mirror.  That  crystal  sea  was 
shot  with  fire.  The  judgments  of  God  necessarily  are 
sometimes  punitive,  retributive,  destructive,  but  they 
that  are  in  sympathy  with  the  Lamb,  and  have  shaken 
off  the  tyranny  of  the  Beast,  in  the  measure  in  which 
they  have  done  so,  even  here  and  now  see  in  them,  and 
understand,  "  the  loving-kindness  of  the  Lord  "  even 
when  He  smites. 
And  so  I  come  to  the  last  point — 
in.  The  Song  of  this  Victorious  Choir.- 
I  do  not  attempt  to  expound  it.  I  simply  wish  to 
draw  attention  to  its  central  thought.  These  conquer- 
ing choristers  stand,  like  Miriam  and  her  maiden  band 
with  their  timbrels,  on  the  safe  shore,  and  as  they  look 
out  on  the  calm  waters  that  have  buried  Pharaoh  and 
his  hosts,  they  lift  up  their  song  of  praise,  because  of 


308  THE  SINGERS  BY  THE  SEA 

the  destructive  judgments  that  have  led  to  liberty.  The 
gist  of  their  song  is  this,  that  God's  dealings  with  man — 
the  transparent  crystal  and  the  fiery  streaks — ahke  are 
the  outcome  of  His  righteous  love,  and  alike  are  intended 
to  lead  men  to  know  and  worship  Him.  Even  when 
there  come  "  terrible  things  in  righteousness  "  to  the 
world,  or  to  us  individually,  if  we  are  wedded  to  Jesus 
Christ  they  will  yield  to  us  here,  and  far  more  clearly 
and  continuously  hereafter,  occasions  for  thankfulness, 
for  praise,  for  clear  perception  of  the  Divine  character, 
and  for  more  lowly  worship  at  His  feet.  "  When  the 
wicked  perish  there  is  shouting,"  says  Proverbs.  And 
when  God,  as  is  sometimes  the  case,  comes  forth  and 
smites  into  dust  some  hoary  institution  that  has  been 
the  source  of  miseries  to  mankind,  then  men  ought  to 
rejoice,  and,  in  spite  of  sympathy  and  compassion,  ought 
to  feel  that  God  has  done  a  mighty  thing  in  mercy, 
though  mercy  had  an  envelope  of  wrath.  There  is 
nothing  of  the  weak  sentimentality  which  characterizes 
some  people's  theories,  in  the  New  Testament  concep- 
tion of  God.  He  is  the  God  of  love,  but  His  very  love 
must  sometimes  nerve  His  arm  to  strike,  and  sharpen 
His  spear  to  slay. 

Let  us  remember  that  that  is  true  about  our  individual 
lives.  Let  us  take  our  place  where  the  choristers  stand 
by  the  glassy  sea,  in  so  far  as  we  can  do  so  here  and  now. 
Let  us  recognize  habitually,  that  even  the  retributive 
and  destructive  and  afflictive  acts  of  God  come  forth 


THE  SINGERS  BY  THE  SEA  309 

from  His  righteousness  and  for  our  good,  and  we  shall  be 
less  astonished  when  the  bitter  draught  comes  to  our  Ups, 
and  be  able  to  say,  even  whilst  we  take  it :  "  The  cup 
which  my  Father  hath  given  me  ;  shall  I  not  drink  it  ?  " 
And  afterwards  we  shall  stand  like  the  harpers  by  the 
glassy  sea,  and  praise  Him  for  our  sorrows,  our  losses, 
our  pains ;  and  for  all  the  way  by  which  the  Lord  our 
God  hath  led  us. 

So  let  us  acquiesce  in  present  imperfect  knowledge, 
and  not  be  in  too  great  a  hurry  to  pronounce,  with  our 
fallible  judgment,  and  our  partial  information  as  to  a 
half-finished  process,  what  is  in  accordance  with,  and 
what  is  contrary  to,  the  Divine  nature.  Abraham  had 
the  boldness  to  say :  "  Shall  not  the  Judge  of  all  the 
earth  do  right  ?  " — which  did  not  mean  "  I  will  acqui- 
esce in  His  acts,  though  I  cannot  see  their  righteousness, 
because  He  did  them  ;  "  but  did  mean  :  "  Men  have  a 
standard  of  right  and  wrong  to  which  they  expect  that 
the  Divine  acts  will  conform."  That  is  true,  no  doubt, 
but  it  is  a  principle  that  has  to  be  very  cautiously  appHed, 
for  the  reasons  just  stated.  We  see  but  a  small  segment 
of  the  circle  here,  and  our  judgment  of  it  had  best  be 
suspended  till  we  see  the  perfect  round.  We  shall  be 
most  modest  and  wise  if  we  "  judge  nothing  before  the 
time."  But  we  can  confidently  accept  Christ's  promise  : 
"  What  thou  knowest  not  now,  thou  shalt  know  here- 
after." Since  we  may  hope  to  join  the  victorious 
choristers  by  the  sea  of  glass,  let  us  not  contradict  our 


310  THE  SINGERS  BY  THE  SEA 

future  song  of  praise  by  our  present  murmurings  and 
complaints. 

Brethren,  this  vision  shows  us,  too,  the  path  of  victory. 
Take  Jesus  Christ  for  your  captain,  and  in  His  strength 
fight,  and  He  will  bring  you  at  last  to  the  eternal  shore  ; 
and  as  the  unsetting  sun  rises,  it  will  touch  with  golden 
beams  the  calm  ocean,  beneath  which  the  oppressors  lie 
buried  for  ever.  If  we  let  the  Beast  write  his  name  on 
our  foreheads,  we  shall  sink  with  him  in  the  mighty 
waters.  If  we  take  the  Lamb  first  for  our  sacrifice, 
and  then  for  our  King,  He  will  break  the  yoke  of  bondage 
from  off  our  necks,  and  bring  us  at  last  to  the  safe  beach, 
and  put  a  new  song  into  our  mouths,  of  praise  to  Him 
Who  has  gotten  us  the  victory  "  over  the  Beast  .  ;  -. 
and  the  number  of  his  name." 


Butler  &  Tanner,  The  Selwood  Printing  Works,  Frome,  and  Londoa. 


